


Permets-Tu

by zade



Series: Love and Liberty [4]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Apologies, Bladder Control, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bondage, Bondage Hood, Boot Worship, Breathplay, Breeding Bench, Chapter 3 has:, Chastity Device, Cock Cages, Corsetry, Double Penetration in One Hole, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Explicit Consent, Face Slapping, Fisting, Fleshlights, Foot Bondage, Forced Orgasm, Formalwear, Free Use, Frottage, Gags, Glory Hole, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Head Shaving, Human Furniture, Humiliation, Impact Play, Kinda, Kink Negotiation, Kinktober, Leather Kink, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Massage, Mild sensory deprivation, More Bondage, More teasing, Name-Calling, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Play, Nipple Torture, Omorashi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Paddling, Painplay, Praise Kink, Predicament Bondage, RIP, Riding Crops, Rimming, Role Reversal, Scent Kink, Schmoop, Semi-Public Sex, Sensory Deprivation, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Sexual Fantasy, Shower Sex, Size Kink, Sort Of, Sounding, Spanking, Stripping, Stuff gags, Submissive Grantaire, Sweat, Sweater Kink, Talking down, Teasing, Temperature Play, Verbal Humiliation, Vibrators, armbinder KINDA, black out contacts, chapter 1 has:, chapter 10 has:, chapter 11 has:, chapter 12 has:, chapter 13 has:, chapter 14 has, chapter 15 has:, chapter 2 has:, chapter 4 has:, chapter 5 has:, chapter 6 has:, chapter 7 has:, chapter 8 has:, chapter 9 has:, consensual and minor mind fuck, depersonalization but its not on purpose, extremely mild dehumanization, foot pain, for a change, gagging, meaness, more manhandling, more name calling, more orgasm denial, oops I forgot, public bondage under clothes, so much humiliation, soft kink, sorta - Freeform, spitting, staying put, subtaire, tape gags, two idiots using meeting talk during sex bc they are idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:55:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 27,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26780254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zade/pseuds/zade
Summary: This is the place where my Les Mis kinktober fics live! All of these take place in a modern au where Enjolras and Grantaire have an established relationship, where they sometimes also have very consensual kinky fun
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Series: Love and Liberty [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1146680
Comments: 63
Kudos: 98





	1. Day Two: Human Furniture and Sounding (and Nipple play and Orgasm Denial)

**Author's Note:**

> I HAVE FORGOTTEN HOW TO WRITE PORN
> 
> this day has: human furniture, sounding, orgasm denial, one of those nipple tray, predicament bondage, gags, some light slapping with a riding crop, and oral sex

Grantaire likes it when he looks unbothered.

Enjolras doesn’t feel unbothered. He feels like he’s coming out of his skin and he’s not sure if he should take it out on Grantaire’s ass or his mouth. Both are appealing, with Grantaire tied and straining and strong, but not strong enough to break free.

Grantaire is kneeling at his feet with a tray holding a cup of water that Enjolras studiously isn’t drinking, held up at chest height by two clamps pulling painfully at Grantaire’s nipples. They are stretched and reddened, and Grantaire has to arch his back so the tray rests against his sternum but it clearly doesn’t take the edge off.

It’s good for both of them, based on how hard Grantaire looks, but Enjolras wants tears, and that prompted him to bind Grantaire’s hands to his balls, the ropes crisscrossing and pulling his shoulders firmly back. Grantaire’s back is painfully arched, abs spasming to hold the position and sweat beading on his brow.

“Color?” Enjolras asks, slapping a riding crop idly across his knee. He knows Grantaire is following his every movement with his eyes, so he plays it up a little more. 

Grantaire’s mouth must be dry by now, spread wide with a medical-looking metal gag that gave Enjolras very un-Hippocratic thoughts. Despite this, he manages a breathy, mangled, “lime,” that Enjolras only understands from extended exposure to Grantaire’s gag talk.

“Good. I would be disappointed if that was all you could take.” He reaches forward and ratchets the gag open one more notch and Grantaire lets out a long groan. His mouth is so wide now it has to hurt, the edges of his lips pulled taut and tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “Be good for me.”

Whatever Grantaire replies is too garbled to be understood, which is probably for the best, since Enjolras is pretty sure it wasn’t “sir, yessir.” He takes the crop and snaps it against Grantaire’s right nipple a few times. Grantaire yelps and instinctively folds inward then jolts back when it tugs on his balls. Enjolras waits a few moments for Grantaire’s breathing to relax, then does it again.

And again. And again. 

The cup tips dangerously a couple of times, but Grantaire catches himself with tensed muscles, because of course he does. He’s too good and Enjolras adjust his cock as subtly as possible. “If you spill the water I’m going to keep you on your knees for the rest of the week.” Grantaire moans. “Every day, until you learn how to be a good little side table for me.”

Grantaire mumbles something and Enjolras gives him a gentle swat across the face with the crop, and then another because he likes the redness it brings to Grantaire’s cheeks.

“We’ve been over this, Grantaire. Tables don’t talk, do they?” He waits to see if Grantaire reacts, if he’ll fall for Enjolras’s trap but he doesn’t, staying silent and looking at Enjolras with adoration in his face.

Enjolras rises from the chair and gets onto his knees. “Hold this.” He slips his phone out of his pocket, placing it and the riding crop gently onto Grantaire’s tray and watches him wince as his abused nipples take on even more weight. His back arches further, pulling the line between his hands and his balls taut.

Enjolras barely resists the urge to reach back and give it a tug. Too much, maybe. Besides, he has other plans in mind.

Grantaire’s cock is hard, bobbing against his belly. Enjolras grabs the leather pouch containing a set of sounds and a bottle of a lube that had been next to him on the couch and dons a pair of gloves, efficiently as he can. He selects a sound swiftly, lubing it up, and bringing it to Grantaire’s piss slit, eyeing him critically, detached in a way he knows Grantaire likes.

Grantaire shivers, muscles rippling as he gargles, “seafoam,” and a line of saliva rolls slowly down his lip.

Enjolras pushes the sound in, letting gravity do most of the work and focusing instead on the way Grantaire closes his eyes, shaking and moaning as the sound stretches out his cock and overstimulates him. 

“Feeling like cumming with a sound, R?” he asks, rolling Grantaire’s balls in his left hand, while his right toys with the end of the sound. “Did you like that last time? It hurt, didn’t it?” At Grantaire’s affirmative noise Enjolras continues: “What else was I meant to do? I can’t let my table leak, now can I?”

Grantaire tries to buck his hips towards Enjolras but doesn’t quite manage before the position causes too much pain and he groans hard as he moves back. He’s beginning to really tremble, his strong muscles finally becoming overtaxed. Enjolras feels like he’s at the edge of cumming and the fact that he probably won’t let Grantaire is—well, it’s hot and overwhelming, and he can’t believe this beautiful, talented, powerful man puts such control in his hands, and he would be more emotional about it if his cock wasn’t pressing painfully into the zipper of his jeans.

He reaches out, grabbing the sound and moving it slowly in and out a few times, teasing, and Grantaire bucks and whines. He replaces it again quickly, rising to his feet. He narrows the gag, extracting it from Grantaire’s mouth. He wants to hear what Grantaire has to say.

Grantaire licks his dry lips and whines. “Can I suck your cock, sir? Please sir, I’ll be so good for you. Full service side-table.”

Enjolras laughs despite himself, cradling Grantaire’s face in his hand, and Grantaire leans into it like a sunflower to the light. “The mouth on you!” He sounds fond though, and Grantaire gives him the sassiest grin he can manage through the pain in his nipples and shoulders and balls.

“I can show you the mouth on me.” He winks and Enjolras smacks him lightly on the cheek.

“Color?”

“Shamrock,” Grantaire says immediately. “An entire bar on St. Patrick’s day. Please, sir.”

Enjolras unzips his pants, and steps into Grantaire’s space. Grantaire’s mouth is instantly on him. He’s leaning forward and Enjolras can see the tray, hanging in the air now and not supported by his sternum, and based on where Grantaire’s shoulders are, probably pulling hard on his balls, too. It’s probably the desperation of the pain that makes him suck Enjolras down into his throat and Enjolras is only human. He makes quick work of Enjolras and leans back, panting, with a satisfied smile.

Enjolras wants to wipe it off his face. Affectionately. He zips his fly and reaches down and takes the items off the tray. Grantaire takes a deep breath, relaxing as the weight on his nipples decreases so dramatically.

Enjolras sits back on the chair, and places his foot on the tray, lightly at first, then putting increasing pressure until Grantaire is halfway to the ground and the pressure on his nipples and balls is enough that he’s actually beginning to cry. His cock has softened some, sound hanging part way out of him.

Enjolras keeps him there for a long moment, then relents, letting Grantaire spring back up, crying and hiccuping slightly.

“Let’s get that off you,” Enjolras says lightly, and unclips the clamps. Grantaire shouts as the blood rushes back to his nipples, crying as Enjolras massages them roughly to get the blood circulating more quickly.

“You like that part too much sir,” Grantaire says, still sniffling.

“I like everything with you.” Enjolras says it quietly, like it’s a secret, but Grantaire grins like Enjolras is an idiot. Maybe he is. “Want me to free your balls?”

Grantaire nods and Enjolras gets to untying his knots. “What I would really like to do is cum,” Grantaire says conspiratorially.

“Oh yes?” Enjolras asks, tapping the sound.

Grantaire jumps, whining. “No.” 

Enjolras finishes with the knots and removes the sound as painlessly as he can.

“Then you can look forward to doing that later. Or tomorrow maybe,” he says, and pulls Grantaire into his lap. “Maybe I’ll make you earn it this time.”

“Fuuuuck.” Grantaire waggles his hips “You’re the absolute worst and I love you.”

Enjolras grins. “I love you, too. I’ll be interested to see if you feel the same when I get you ice packs to hold on those nipples.”


	2. Day Three: Fisting and Orgasm Denial (and Bondage and Name Calling)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has: bondage, fisting, orgasm denial, and a little bit of name calling
> 
> <3

Enjolras’s hands are strong and calloused and fucking huge and one of them is inside Grantaire and he might die. Enjolras turns his hands and his knuckles scrape against Grantaire’s prostate and he almost screams, trying to buck away but he’s stuck fast. He’s on his elbows and knees, arms and legs smothered in rope and anchored on all sides to the bed, connected with spreader bars to each other. He’s held upright and in position and can’t even collapse in a puddle of overstimulation.

“Jesus fucking Christ, sir,” Grantaire whimpers, hanging his head. “Am I meant to survive this or is this an elaborate murder? You could say you punched me to death.”

Enjolras snorts, kissing the place where Grantaire’s thigh meets his ass. Then he bites it, and Grantaire whines again. “Must not be fucking you hard enough if you’re still coherent enough to issue a complaint.” He angles his fist, grinding it into Grantaire’s walls again, harder.

Grantaire groans, body rocking in his bonds with every thrust of Enjolras’s unfairly huge hands. He tries to tense his abs to stabilize himself but all that does is squeeze his ass around Enjolras’s hand which already feels deep enough it must be butting up against his throat, and he gives up. Grantaire can feel his cock hanging heavy, throbbing with the attention Enjolras is paying to his prostate and he just wants Enjolras to touch him.

“Touch me, please, sir.” Considering how heavy and overloaded his head feels, saying actual words feels like a success.

He can hear Enjolras laugh, but can’t see him, kneeling up behind Grantaire, which is disconcerting and hot and scary—and god damn Grantaire loves him. 

“Wha’s funny, sir?” Grantaire bites out, faintly slurring. He feels like he’s coming apart, but he’s held so tightly he can barely move.

Enjolras slowly unclenches his fist. “It’s just that,” he says, pressing all his fingers firmly to Grantaire’s prostate, “I am touching you.”

Grantaire screams. He tries to pull away from the hand but he can’t, attached as he is to Enjolras and bound to hell, to boot. He can’t even move his limbs—he’s trapped, stuck, and he wants to cum more than anything. “Please please please please—”

If anything, Enjolras presses harder, pressure and sensation flooding Grantaire’s system, heading straight for Grantaire’s desperate, untouched cock. 

“Please!”

“Color?” Enjolras still sounds faintly amused which Grantaire would be into if he had any braincells to devote to anything other than how much his body is aching with holding his position and also with how fucking wound up he is.

It takes Grantaire a moment to remember how to answer and when he does he says, “Mint,” with as much vitriol as he can manage.

“Good,” Enjolras replies, and goes back to abusing Grantaire’s prostate. “You’re being a good little fucktoy for me.”

Grantaire whines. Fucktoy. It is so close to being too much; wrapped up in rope and so hard he’s hurting, and Grantaire can’t help but imagine that Enjolras’s fist is carving out a space for itself, rearranging Grantaire’s insides until he’s nothing but a warm hole for Enjolras to stick his fist in. His dick twitches in response, leaving a smear of precum on his belly and he wants to touch his cock so much it’s unfair.

“Sir, I am so close,” Grantaire says, breathless as Enjolras beats the breath out of him with his fist. He’s going to die of asphyxiation due to fisting and no one will come to the funeral out of second hand embarrassment.

Enjolras’s spare hand suddenly has a vise grip around Grantaire’s balls and he would have already collapsed if he could. He squeals, bucking his hips as much as he can but Enjolras has him literally by the balls, and the frantic-to-cum part of him recedes in a wave. The urge is still there, but it’s both buoyed and completely ruined by the pain. Grantaire is nothing if not a man of complexities.

“Less close?” Enjolras ask, laughter tinging his words and if Grantaire could kick him he would.

“Yessir. Consider me deeply less close.”

Enjolras laughs outright, releasing his grip on Grantaire’s balls and instead using his free hand to swat at them like a punching bag. “Good.” The ridges of his knuckles are really going to be the end of Grantaire, hard as steel inside of him, and exerting pressure without end. It’s a lot without arousal to temper it, and Grantaire can feel his arms and legs begin to shake, and only partially from exertion.

“I am a few minutes from no longer being able to physically hold myself up, sir, just in case you were interested.”

Enjolras hums and presses a kiss to Grantaire’s lower back. “I am very interested. I’d love to see you collapsed in place with only my hand keeping you up, like a puppet. A fuckpuppet.”

Grantaire’s dick flings itself towards his stomach with dumb abandon. He whines, lowering his head until it hits the bed. “Sir, you can’t just say things like that!”

“I’m pretty sure I can,” Enjolras says mildly, and his hand is inexplicably further in Grantaire, which doesn’t make sense because Grantaire was sure that Enjolras’s fingers were already brushing the back of his throat. His asshole throbs as it’s stretched further—Enjolras must be past his wrist and Grantaire is going to astrally project. “After all, you’re a fuckpuppet,” emphasizing his words with a harsh thrust, “aren’t you?”

Grantaire is aware of how much his limbs are shaking, the drool falling from his lips, the jumble of sensations coming from his ass, and aware of how deeply he wants to cum right now, and then he’s aware of a hand on his balls again, squeezing, and it’s all eclipsed by the white hot pain. 

“Fuck, sir!”

“Color?”

Grantaire is sure he’s crying, but—“Emerald, you asshole.” The pain is all consuming, keeping him from breathing deep, but that’s fine, because he likes the breathless wave of sensation even as it aches.

“Good,” Enjolras says and tightens his grip. “Because I want to see how deep I can get. Then we’ll see if you can cum. But,” he squeezes again, a warning, “I wouldn’t bet on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im gabe racetrackthehiggins and u can send me prompts if u want something #nasty


	3. Day Four: Breathplay and Leather (and Corsets and Sensory Deprivation)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is both pre and post amble and in the middle theres some porn
> 
> this chapter contains: breathplay, leather (corsets), bondage, gags, bondage hoods and sensory deprivation, a wee bit of robot fantasies and accidental depersonalization BUT it is discussed at the end, and uhh frottage? i guess?

The hood and the corset smell overwhelmingly like leather and Enjolras approaches him with them with such exaggerated care that Grantaire might swoon if he wasn’t relatively certain that would bring the scene to an end. The first piece, the corset, is newly purchased, made of leather and steel boned, and the hood is the sort of thing that Grantaire has only ever actually seen in high budget porn. 

Enjolras makes him lean up against the wall and buckles him into the corset, pulling the cords until his torso aches pleasantly, which leaves Grantaire breathless and smiling like a loon.

“You didn’t need to go through all the trouble, sir, you already take my breath away,” Grantaire says as flirtatiously as he can, panting lightly. 

Enjolras rolls his eyes and smacks Grantaire on the ass, right on the plug that Grantaire had asked for like a horny idiot. He hands Grantaire two squishy little green earplugs.

Grantaire exhales hard. “Not gonna lie, that’s a little scary.”

“Hot scary or ‘let’s table this idea until a later date’ scary? ‘Hotter in fantasy than reality’ scary?”

Grantaire considers the earplugs and the hood resting on the bed. “Leaning towards hot, sir?”

Enjolras leans in to kiss him, leaving him even more breathless because Grantaire is a sucker. “Let me know if it stops being hot.”

He knows, from doing sensory deprivation with Enjolras, that it’s easier to put in your own earplugs, but he doesn’t have much practice himself. He rolls them up and pops them, one at a time, into his ears. The sudden change in volume is both expected and disconcerting, but he already feels off-balance and leans into Enjolras as he is led to and pressed down onto a chair.

“Snap your fingers for me?” Enjolras asks, and Grantaire can hear him but it sounds like he’s underwater and Grantaire shivers. Grantaire snaps obligingly, and Enjolras says, “Very good, R, you’re doing so well,” and presses his hand to Grantaire’s cheek. 

Grantaire leans into the hand. God, he adores this man.

“Let’s get you tied,” he says, pushing Grantaire against the chair and grabbing rope from their rope box. It’s neatly tied and when Enjolras flicks his wrist it unravels in a single fluid motion and Grantaire has seen it countless times but it never ceases to be hot. Enjolras lashes his wrists to the opposite elbow, then to the slats of the chair, before spreading his legs and binding them to the legs. For good measure, Enjolras throws a line across his pelvis, anchoring him to the seat.

“I’m successfully bound, sir, and breathless with anticipation.” Grantaire’s voice sounds like it’s coming from far away, from somewhere outside his body, and sitting in the corset definitely makes it harder to breathe than standing, but Grantaire’s dick is hard about it, anyway.

Enjolras lifts the hood and brings it towards him, and it smells overwhelmingly like leather and Grantaire’s dick twitches over it. There’s a medium sized bulbous dick-ish shaped gag attached and Enjolras slips that into Grantaire’s open mouth first, before pulling the rest of the hood on.

The gag is comfortable and has just enough give that Grantaire could wear it for a while without too much strain, which is a hot thought. Maybe Enjolras planned to keep him in the hood all day. Maybe longer than that. His dick jolts at that thought, hard and dripping precum against his thigh.

The rest of the hood goes on smoothly, Enjolras taking care to line up the nose holes, and it’s very disorienting, but way less restrictive than he had thought it would be—and then Enjolras begins tightening the laces. The hood is pulled tight to his face, padding over his eyes and ears and it’s pitch black and almost silent and all he can do is suck in a shaky breath through his nose and focus on his dick as it throbs.

It tightens again around his ears and eyes and neck, and all he can smell is leather and Grantaire is beginning to rethink whether or not he has a leather kink because the smell is enough to set him off again, straining to find anything to rub off against, cock aching.

He can feel, rather than hear, the clicks of the padlocks. Maybe he was right, maybe Enjolras was going to keep him like this all day, which is as scary as it is hot, and he squeezes around the plug in his ass. Grantaire thinks he might burst.

He can feel Enjolras straddle him, Enjolras’s cock brushing up against him, can feel the rumbles from Enjolras’s chest that make it clear he’s speaking, but Grantaire can’t hear him at all. He tries to tell Enjolras as much but it gets lost around the gag and he’s stuck gasping afterwards, trying to suck in enough breath.

Between the corset and two tiny nose holes it becomes infinitely harder to breathe, harder still when Enjolras begins grinding on him and pulling at Grantaire’s nipples. He feels like a toy, like a not-person existing only for Enjolras’s pleasure and fuck if that doesn’t get him going. A robot crafted for Enjolras, to meet his needs, and who cares what a robot thinks or wants or has to say? Who cares if a robot can see or hear or breathe?

Enjolras’s teeth close around his nipple hard and Grantaire yells through the pain, but to his ears it's so muffled it might as well be a whimper. He knows Enjolras would stop at the briefest indication that he is uncomfortable, but he likes the fantasy that Enjolras set him up so that a safeword couldn’t be heard, intentionally orchestrating things so that Grantaire would be isolated and hurting with no way out, sitting pretty while Enjolras mauled Grantaire’s tits.

When Enjolras finally releases Grantaire’s nipples he’s half out of his mind with want already. He tries to meet Enjolras is a half-hearted thrust, but he’s tied down too well, of course he is. Enjolras scooches in further, kissing Grantaire’s collarbones and thrusting insistently against Grantaire’s crotch and leather covered stomach and Grantaire aches to touch him. He can feel his ass clenching around the plug as though that would bring him closer to orgasm instead of just frustrating him more, and he has no idea how long it’s been, whether it’s been minutes or hours or days, all he knows is trying to breathe and needing to cum. 

Grantaire is already sucking in short desperate breaths when Enjolras’s hand comes down over the nose holes and Grantaire’s brain short circuits.

He’s safe, he knows he’s safe, but the lizard brain part of him immediately begins pulling and bucking, trying to suck air hopelessly through Enjolras’s palm. He’s tied down too tight, trying to free his hands or hips with sharp frantic movement. He can tell Enjolras is riding him, using his panic as something to hump against. A toy, a robot, a faceless thing to hurt and take your pleasure from. Grantaire is so distraught when Enjolras’s hand moves away that he almost isn’t able to make himself suck in a few breaths.

The hand is back before he’s fully caught his breath and he swears he hears Enjolras’s puffs of laughter against his shoulder when he screams. He is a raw nerve, a thing with no senses but pain and want and Enjolras is playing him like a piano. He wants to cum more than he’s ever wanted anything, even to breathe, but he wants to please Enjolras even more.

When the hand leaves again, Grantaire is limp, breathing quickly and aware of how sweaty and stifling the inside of the hood is, how wet his hair is and how tired all his muscles seem. The sweat makes the leather smell even stronger and he’s too weak to struggle now but his dick is trying to compensate, hard and desperate.

Enjolras places his hand over Grantaire’s nose again, lightly, and his other hand on Grantaire’s dick, a ghost of a touch, then removes both at once. He does it again, covering his nose longer and touching Grantaire’s dick more firmly, and it clicks: Enjolras is only going to let him cum if Grantaire can’t breathe.

He takes as deep a breath as he can, and then the hand is back, the other one pulling hard on his cock and Grantaire is certain he’s going to explore. He tries to suck in breaths against Enjolras’s hand but there’s no air and he’s so close and he’s not sure he’s going to make it, going to pass out before he cums and then all at once he can breathe again and Enjolras’s hand is still stroking his cock and when he cums there are fireworks behind his eyes and he’s gasping and sobbing.

It’s dark and silent, and he’s panting. The hood is still on, and he’s not sure if Enjolras is planning on taking it off and he can’t summon any feelings about that.

He can distantly hear the locks come away, then the strap, and the whole thing is loosened all at once. The gag is pulled out of his mouth and he can distantly hear Enjolras say, “Close your eyes, R. Just for a few minutes,” and does, because he loves Enjolras and he trusts him, and Enjolras will take care of him. The ropes come off next, leaving Grantaire limp and swaying.

He’s floating, catching his breath slowly, enjoying the feel of the sweat cooling his scalp, the satisfying feeling of his belly relaxing as Enjolras removes the corset via the busk. As he settles back into his body, the fantasy and fear fade moment by moment. Maybe he’s not a robot, maybe this is real, after all. His eyes are still closed, and that’s fine, it’s grounding, and the endorphins are making him feel warm and safe.

“You can open your eyes if you feel ready, R. You did so good for me. You were incredible.”

He does, slowly. The light is okay as he adjusts and he leans into Enjolras. Enjolras holds him up, kisses his sweaty head. “Thank you, sir. That was a lot.”

Enjolras stills, anxious, and it makes Grantaire love him even more. “Too much a lot?”

“No, just a lot a lot.” Grantaire octopuses around him, dragging him onto the chair. “This is stupid but, can you—can you tell me I’m real?”

Enjolras kisses his forehead again, lifting Grantaire off the chair and carrying him to bed, despite the differences in their sizes. Grantaire would be hard again if his dick wasn’t as exhausted as the rest of him. “R, you’re so real that everything around you pales in comparison. You’re here, and you’re speaking to me, and that was all a fun fantasy, but we’re back in the real world where you are my partner, and we live together happily. I know we’re done with the scene, but can you give me a color, Grantaire?”

Grantaire nods, sleepily. “Okay. That’s okay, then. I’m kelly green, Enjolras.” He yawns, curling into Enjolras. “I had a fun robot fantasy. Remind me to tell you later?”

He hears Enjolras say, “Of course, love,” and then he’s asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i am gabe racetrackthehiggins and this sure was some feelings I MEAN porn


	4. Day Five: Double Penetration (in two holes) and (implied) Boot Worship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is coming in just under the line
> 
> today's chapter contains: double penetration (in two holes), (big) dildos, blowjobs, rubbing onself off on someone else's boots, implied cleaning that back up

Enjolras starts by handcuffing Grantaire’s hands behind his back, before easing the tip of the monster plug inside of him. The plug is fat and absurdly long, and suctions to the floor between Grantaire’s knees like an omen of what’s to come. Enjolras is sitting in front of Grantaire, dressed in jeans and boots and Grantaire is naked and staring starry-eyed at Enjolras.

“Can I please suck your dick, sir?” Grantaire asks, all but pouting. He’s done a very good job, since Enjolras put him in place, of not sliding down the massive dildo. He’s good on his knees, though, so Enjolras isn’t surprised.

“I’m not sure you’ve earned it yet.” Enjolras reaches out and grabs a handful of Grantaire’s curls, tugging them just shy of too hard. Grantaire gasps, throat bared from the angle Enjolras is tilting his head, and Enjolras wants to suck on it so badly he almost lets it derail his plans. Almost. “Get a little farther down the plug, R. Show me you’re ready for my cock.”

Grantaire groans. He rolls his shoulders as much as he can and begins to sink down. He doesn’t get too far before he’s gasping, trying to hold himself in place even though now that he’s sunk down, the brunt of the work of staying in place is on the strength of his thighs; they’re not shaking now, but they will be.

Enjolras shows his appreciation by stroking the bulge of his jeans, uncrossing his legs to slide his boot towards Grantaire, giving him something to rub off against. Grantaire, eager and good masochist that he is, readily humps the rough laces, moaning as he bounces on the part of the silicone cock that’s inside him. Enjolras keeps ahold of his hair, tugging it when Grantaire doesn’t look quite overwhelmed enough.

Grantaire obligingly rocks against Enjolras’s boot, moans, strains against the cuffs, but doesn’t make much progress on the plug. “What’s wrong, R? Did I finally find a toy that’s too big for you?”

Grantaire licks his lips, mouth staying parted after as he looks at Enjolras with something close to adoration and Enjolras loves him so much it feels like a physical ache. “It’s big,” Grantaire says, softly. “And you promised me your dick, sir.”

Enjolras leans down, tugging Grantaire’s hair harder, and Grantaire lifts up as far as he can on his knees. “You’ll get it. But I want you to be stuffed from both ends. I want you to cum with that cock in your ass and mine in your mouth and you humping my boot in mindless abandon like a dog.”

Grantaire whines, high and needy. Enjolras finally lets his hair go and Grantaire sinks, beginning to make some headway on the giant plug. Every time he flexes his hips to ease the passage, he runs his cock against the roughness of Enjolras’s laces, and it can’t feel good, but Grantaire chases that sensation as he tries to take the plug to the base. 

“Good boy,” Enjolras says, and leans forward to kiss Grantaire. If he pushes Grantaire gently downwards as he does so—well, Grantaire’s certainly not complaining. After a few minutes of progress, Grantaire stops. He’s far enough down that his thighs are quaking with the effort of holding him up, but the dildo gets larger towards the bottom, and while it’s nowhere near as big as a fist, he also didn’t stretch Grantaire the way he would for a fist.

The longer Grantaire stays immobile, the more his thighs shake, and his face is beginning to get red with the effort. “Please, sir, I can’t,” he moans, pulling hard against his bonds. He’s beginning to really struggle, but his cock stays hard against Enjolras’s boot. “Viridian, sir, before you ask.”

“Good boy.” Enjolras grabs a handful of Grantaire’s hair again, pulling it firmly but not so much it would actually hurt. “And yes, you can. You’re so good for me, Grantaire, so giving and so good at hurting, and you look so beautiful while you do it.” Grantaire moans again, but Enjolras isn’t done with him. “Get a little more inside you.”

Grantaire whimpers, then begins working himself back and forth, eventually yielding to the stiff silicone. He has 3 inches left and the tears in his eyes say pretty plainly that he doesn’t think he has 3 inches left inside him, but Enjolras is certain he can fit it. “Very good. You’re always so perfect, I can’t wait to bury myself down your throat while the cock I picked for you is wrecking your insides.”

Grantaire moans, taking another half an inch hard. “Fuck, sir, I can’t!”

Enjolras unzips his pants, pulling his cock free. He is pretty sure there is a wet spot at the front of his jeans, but luckily Grantaire is in no state to notice. “It’s okay, you’ve earned it, R.” 

Grantaire all but dives into him, landing face first in Enjolras’s crotch and Enjolras lines his cock up with Grantaire’s eager mouth. Grantaire sucks him hard, rocking back and forth as he moves up and down Enjolras’s cock, dragging his cock against the laces of Enjolras’s boots, and gradually sliding down the dildo. Enjolras can tell when Grantaire reaches the bottom because his eyes widen and he lets out a muffled shout around Enjolras’s cock, and unceremoniously cums all over Enjolras’s boot.

Enjolras raises an eyebrow at him and Grantaire flushes. He moves back in to refocus on Enjolras’s cock, but he’s clearly too sensitive and the movement of his hips forward makes him almost double over. He pulls away, a line of saliva connecting him to Enjolras’s dick. “I’m sorry, sir,” he gasps.

It takes everything in Enjolras to keep from grinning at Grantaire, trying to stay in strictish-dom mode. “You’re going to make it up to me by letting me cum down your throat.” He grabs ahold of Grantaire’s hair again, pulling him forward, ignoring the shocked gasp as Grantaire’s insides are battered by the dildo. “And then you’re going to lick your cum of my new boots, aren’t you?”

Grantaire looks up at him, eyes wide and face red and he grins breathlessly. “Clover, sir,” he says, and takes Enjolras back into his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i am gabe racetrackthehiggins and im exhausted and its only the 5th


	5. Days Six and Seven: Free Use and Sensory Deprivation and Rimming and Breeding (Benches)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i totaled my car and have been in some pain so have these two days together in one terrible mess of a day and also i barely proofread bc headache soooo ymmv
> 
> this fic contains: bondage (i'm calling it a breeding stand but uhh barely), gags, gagging, dildos and plugs, rimming, anal sex, ignoring someone during sex, sensory deprivation (blindfolds), a degrading phone call during sex (it's fake in case ur worried), a little bit of disorientation/time play, name calling (affectionate insults and animal words), humiliation, free use technically, orgasm delay (shockingly)

The stand comes apart in three pieces and lives under their bed when not in use. It’s not in use too often, as it’s a pain to put together, and Grantaire thinks that Enjolras would much rather tie him down or rig him up himself as opposed to placing him into a device, but it serves its purpose.

Its purpose is to leave Grantaire stuck in place and available for fucking, and it’s good at it.

The stand consists of a few metal bars in an ‘I’ shape, with cuffs to keep his arms and legs in place and leave him spread out on his forearms and knees, one pole sticking up with a collar to keep his head in place, and one with a slight cushion that holds his pelvis up and wraps around his cock in a way that is not terribly conducive to orgasms.

Enjolras had placed him in it some time ago, locked the locks, blindfolded him, shoved the smallest ring gag they had that was still large enough for Enjolras to stick his dick through, and plugged him thoroughly. He has been stuck there for what felt like hours, like a bitch in a breeding stand. Grantaire had exhausted the range of his wiggle room early on, and he’s stifled. The collar is tight enough that even if he can shift his arms and legs an inch back and forth in their cuffs, the collar keeps him basically in place.

Enjolras had come by, fucking his ass twice, and his mouth once, and Enjolras has a short refractory period, but Grantaire is certain it had been a few hours at least. His body aches and despite the relatively small size of the gag his jaw is beginning to get sore, and Grantaire suspects that Enjolras has replaced the plug with larger ones after he’d fucked Grantaire’s ass, and it twinges.

He hears Enjolras enter the bedroom and Grantaire perks up immediately, trying to make himself as alluring as possible, which is not an easy task considering he’s strapped in place. Enjolras gets close enough that Grantaire swears he can feel the heat radiating off Enjolras’s skin, when he hears the phone ring. Grantaire is half out of his mind with horniness, but he’s pretty sure it’s his phone. 

He hears Enjolras sigh, then say, “Hello?”

They’ve been together for long enough that answering each other’s phone isn’t that unusual, but Grantaire usually isn’t incapable of saying how he feels about it in any given circumstance—but evidently how he feels about it in this circumstance is pretty turned on.

“Oh, hey. Yeah, no, sorry. Grantaire’s a little tied up at the moment.”

Grantaire’s eyes widen under the blindfold and he barely keeps himself from making an embarrassing noise. His friends don’t know what they get up to in their spare time, and it’s a real expression that he’s heard people really use, but he, Grantaire, currently is a lot tied up and his dick finds the whole thing embarrassing and hot and terrible and amazing and he’s going to die of blue balls because Enjolras isn’t touching him.

“Yeah, you know how he gets when he’s focusing on something. Like a dog with a bone.” Something prods his lips gently, then slips between them and through the gag. It’s phallic, but not terrible skin temp, so probably a dildo but all the same. Enjolras is on the phone and Grantaire—Grantaire lets the dildo slip into his throat and tries his hardest not to gag.

He sort of succeeds. Enjolras is having a very long conversation with whichever one of their friends called, which is awful because there’s a cock down Grantaire’s throat and he feels like he’s moments away from expiring from a combination of blue balls and desire to have something fucking his ass, instead of just sitting there making him ache.

“Yeah, you know our R. He’s a different breed.”

Grantaire’s face is red hot, he can feel it, and it’s unfair that Enjolras is teasing him this way. It’s a fucking breeding stand, and Grantaire has no time for his sass, except that apparently he does have for it since his cock is into it.

Enjolras gives the dildo an especially hard thrust and Grantaire gags on it, noisily, and when Enjolras removes it makes an outrageously loud slurp and Grantaire can feel spit gushing out after it. There’s no way that wasn’t audible. Grantaire is going to die of shame just as soon as he’s cum.

Enjolras tugs his hair forcefully and with his eyes covered the only thing he can focus on is how loudly he is panting and how terribly horrific the high pitched whine he’s emitting is. “Yeah, I know. No, I’m not doing anything that matters, I can talk.”

Grantaire is dripping with embarrassment, face red and skin hot. Not doing anything that matters, fuck! Grantaire is going to combust and take the fucking stand with him. 

Enjolras shoves the cock into his mouth and something happens outside of Grantaire’s perception, and the dildo is stuck there. It’s pressing at the edge of Grantaire’s throat and is holding his tongue down, so he’s not able to push at it even if he thought he could push it out, which he’s deeply unsure about. There’s a long moment where he can’t place Enjolras; Enjolras isn’t close enough for Grantaire to be able to feel him, and Enjolras is being silent like a ninja.

Maybe he’s listening to whoever is on the phone.

Enjolras’s hands are suddenly on his ass, one spreading it wide while the other traces around Grantaire’s asshole, and Grantaire squeals. He must be holding the phone between his ear and neck, like he’s doing the dishes. Fuck. “No, I didn’t hear anything,” he says, as he toys with the plug, pulling it until it’s almost free and then pushing it back. The frame keeps Grantaire from moving so he is helpless as Enjolras toys with him. When the plug finally pops free with an obscene sound, Grantaire is nearly in tears.

Enjolras thrusts into him without any preamble, which makes sense. After all, Grantaire is tied here to be used however Enjolras wants to. And if Enjolras wants a casual fuck while he’s on the phone, that’s his prerogative. It feels so good to have to Enjolras in him and Grantaire wishes he could touch his cock, or Enjolras’s cock, or really, any of Enjolras’s skin that isn’t just the dick pounding into him.

Enjolras hits Grantaire’s prostate on nearly every thrust, just to add insult to injury, and Grantaire is made of soup, boneless, and drowning in horniness. He moans, and the way the moan vibrates around the dildo in his mouth is satisfying like cracking a joint. Having something in his mouth makes him feel dumb and slutty, and having something in both ends makes him feel dumber and sluttier in a pleasantly humiliating way and Enjolras is only adding insult to injury with the casual way he’s speaking like he’s not balls deep into Grantaire.

“I’ll tell him but it’s a little tight—his schedule, you understand.”

Jesus fucking Christ who is Enjolras talking to and how have they not realized something is going on. Enjolras sounds so unbothered, and Grantaire is going to die. He tries to beg, to say please, but the motion of his throat makes him gag and then he can’t stop gagging, eyes watering and throat spasming but Enjolras doesn’t stop fucking him.

“He can’t come right now, but I’ll tell him later.”

Grantaire doesn’t fucking deserve this level of teasing, he’s a good person mostly. He wants to cum, he wants it so fucking badly, but that doesn’t appear to be in the cards because Enjolras is a mean, hot, sadistic bastard of a dom and Grantaire is the physical embodiment of the heart eyes emoji.

He’s been in the stand for long enough that his body is beginning to really hurt from being held so rigid, unable to even move his hips to meet Enjolras’s thrusts. He’s seen people say that it’s not really bondage until you genuinely want out, and that isn’t the flavor of bondage Grantaire usually likes but he can certainly see the appeal in moments like this. He wants out. He wants to stretch out, he wants to see Enjolras, he wants to cum, maybe in that order.

He tries to say as much and chokes again. Enjolras laughs and Grantaire has no idea if he’s still even on the phone. He’s making terrible retching noises and for all he knows Enjolras is talking to one of their friends. He’s never going to live this down. Enjolras gives a double tap to Grantaire’s hip and Grantaire taps back on the floor. He’s fine, he’s dying of need-to-cum-itis but he’s fine. It’s beginning to get really disorientated with his eyesight gone and his body is half convinced he’s falling into the floor. Enjolras cums with a soft groan, slipping out of Grantaire and slipping the plug in with no acknowledgment, and then he’s gone and Grantaire is alone in the void again.

There’s nothing touching him but the metal frame and he could be floating for all he knows, stuffed full at both ends and held in place. He realizes he’s sweating because he can feel it drying alone his back and it’s so terribly itchy and he is helpless to react to it. He tries to make a noise to let Enjolras know of his distress, but it sets him off gagging again, choking on a fake dick and milking the one in his ass and hoping that at some point he subconsciously learned how to cum untouched (he hasn’t).

“Mmhm. Bye.”

Grantaire sighs, relieved, and tries to relax into his bondage but he’s caught too tight for even that. He’s bound and fucked and drooling on their bedroom floor, and he can’t even see to see if Enjolras looks pleased with him.

“What to do with a needy little bitch like you?” Enjolras asks, and then his hands are on Grantaire again and Grantaire can’t breathe. Enjolras’s hands find his cock and balls, touching them so lightly it feels like actual pain, and then moving to his ass, teasing the plug out of him again. He can feel Enjolras’s cum ready to gush out of him, but Enjolras presses a single finger to his asshole. “Are you going to just throw away the gifts I have given you, slut?”

Grantaire tightens up as much as he can, suddenly filled with dread of that more than anything else. He’s not sure it’s enough though, he feels full to the gill with cum and fake dick. It’s possibly the most mortifying moment of this life when he can feel Enjolras’s cum begin to drip past the finger, down his ass crack and towards his balls. The feeling of the cum is so slight and soft across his taint and he’s certain he could cum right now if anyone would just touch his cock but no one will.

“You don’t want it? Fine, I’ll take it back.” Enjolras’s mouth is against Grantaire’s ass and his brain short circuits. Enjolras’s tongue is firm and fucks into him with as much confidence as it has when Enjolras is talking, swiping and jabbing as Enjolras’s lips and stubble tease Grantaire’s asshole and Grantaire must be in hell because he feels as good as he ever has but he can’t see Enjolras and he can’t cum.

Enjolras sucks, which should be illegal, and Grantaire starts crying. He’s choking on sobs as Enjolras devours his ass with gusto and Grantaire isn’t sure why they don’t do this more often, but maybe it’s better they don’t because Grantaire would like to be able to breathe at some point and with Enjolras eating his ass breathing has become something of a second thought.

When Enjolras pulls away, Grantaire is pretty sure he’s retrieved all the cum from Grantaire’s body and maybe also Grantaire’s lungs and heart and brain because he can’t form any thoughts beyond how much he loves Enjolras and how much he wants to cum. The plug comes back immediately, and in the aftermath of Enjolras’s it feels too big and too hard and Grantaire whines.

“Do you want to cum, R? I’ll let you, if you want, but then you I’m leaving you tied up, full of cock, and unable to move while I finally get some work done without you lying around trying to get me to fuck you like the desperate animal you are.”

Grantaire is hard as diamonds and panting hard—like an animal, his brain provides and his cock is practically vibrating.

“What do you say, R? I bet you’re dying to cum, just a dumb animal in heat-” he is, he is, “-but you can’t see a clock, can you? You’d have no way of knowing how long I plant to keep you like thid. I could keep you in bondage for hours and you’d have no recourse.” He gives Grantaire another two taps on his hip and Grantaire responds with two on the floor because he’s honestly too turned on to even try and decipher what about this situation he could hypothetically find upsetting. “Leave you here until I was feeling up for fucking again, and then I’d fuck you and leave you all night.”

Grantaire pulls as much as he can in his restraints, trying to force “please” through his double gagged mouth and Enjolras must understand him because there is a hand on his cock and Grantaire is coming in record time. He is panting through his nose, sweaty and shaky and he can feel his phone being placed in the center of his back. 

“I set I timer. I’ll come back when it goes off.”

Grantaire can hear Enjolras walk off and he’s left with the weight in the middle of his back. Enjolras wouldn’t just leave him, would he? No, but that fantasy gets Grantaire. He traded his orgasm for an indeterminate time stuck here, and without the edge of horniness, the position hurts more than it did before. Grantaire tries to shift but he can’t, he’s stuck and he’s hurting and who knows when Enjolras will come back. He tries to count the minutes but he keeps forgetting where he was, and the lack of sight is disorienting even to his other senses.

The timer goes off an infinity later and Enjolras’s hands are at once on his face. “I’m going to take off the gag first, then the blindfold, okay?” He waits for Grantaire’s double knock, then takes the gag off, two pieces at once. “How are you feeling, R?”

“Floaty,” Grantaire answers honestly and hoarsely. “And sore.”

“I’m going to take the blindfold off, give your eyes a second to adjust.”

Grantaire closes them, and leaves them closed when the blindfold comes off, letting his eyes adjust to the light through his eyelids. “How long was that?”

Enjolras snorts. “Five minutes.”

Grantaire groans. “It felt like hours, you asshole.”

Enjolras kisses his forehead and Grantaire can’t help but open hid eyes. “It was supposed to. Do you want out of the breeding stand, Grantaire?”

Grantaire groans again. It’s much less embarrassing before he’s cum. “Yessir.”

“Say please.”

“Yes sir, please.”

Enjolras leans down to kiss his sore lips and then begins to take him out of the stand, starting with his neck, then wrists. His body hurts and he stretches it awkwardly as he is able. Enjolras kisses each limb as he releases it, helps Grantaire bend his sore muscles.

“Who was on the phone, sir?” Grantaire asks dreamily as Enjolras continues to bend the numbness out of Grantaire’s limbs. 

“No one,” Enjolras admits, and Grantaire is glad the blindfold is off, because Enjolras looks genuinely embarrassed. “I, ah, called your phone from mine. Plug in or out?”

“Of course you did!” Grantaire says laughing, and snuggles into Enjolras as Enjolras begins to massage Grantaire’s hands. “Leave it for now, you sex mastermind, you, sir.” 

“I though you’d find it hot,” Enjolras says. He’s blushing and staring fixedly at Grantaire’s hands and he’s so good at figuring out what makes Grantaire tick.

“I did.” Grantaire kisses him and closes his eyes, and if he rubs the base of the plug against Enjolras’s crotch, well, he’s only human. 

“You keep that up and I’ll bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you again.”

Grantaire grins, and grinds down a little harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am sorry and also i am gabe racetrackthehiggins goodnight


	6. Days Eleven and Twelve: Watersports (Omo), Temperature Play, Feet (pain), and Dacryphilia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry the crash really fucked me up apparently! hoping to catch up soon
> 
> this contains: tape bondage on hands and feet, foot pain, bondage in general, a fantasy involving gagging, predicament bondage a little bit, watersports but not explict (like he pisses himself but i don't talk about it u feel), omorashi, a little bit of talking down, ice play, nipple pain, implied orgasm denial
> 
> i might have missed something so sorry if i did this one is A LOT

The first thing Enjolras does after Grantaire suggests the scene is bind Grantaire’s hands with tape into balls. Grantaire likes tape, likes the way it compresses a little and leaves his hands useless and smooth. Enjolras does his feet next, and that is different. The tape bends his toes down and it’s very tight, not enough that Grantaire’s foot cramps—yet—but he’s pretty sure he’s not going to be able to put any weight on it.

“I’m assuming you want me on my knees?” Grantaire asks slyly, fluttering his eyelashes suggestively at Enjolras.

Enjolras beams. “You are a smart little slut, aren’t you?”

That shouldn’t make Grantaire’s heart skip a bet but it does. “I’m whatever you want me to be, sir.”

Enjolras ruffles his hair, and it’s so gentle, especially compared to how ruthlessly he had just rid Grantaire of a decent part of his mobility. “You are so good for me, R. I almost believe you’re not going to disappoint me.”

Grantaire groans, leaning into the touch. “How do you want to do this?”

Enjolras hands him a one liter bottle of water with the cap screwed on. “Drink up.” Enjolras crosses his arms across his chest and leans back against the wall, looking extremely casual and dom-y, and Grantaire’s cock is on board so quickly he suffers dick whiplash.

Grantaire reaches out for it, and it slips through his bound hands. He tries again, and successfully grasping it between his forearms. He rubs at the cap with his hands, but the tape is slippery and it doesn’t do anything beside spin the bottle. “Sir? How exactly am I meant to open this?”

Enjolras clicks his tongue, disappointment on his face but Grantaire can see he’s half hard already. “I thought we had previously established that you were a smart little slut. Was that incorrect?” He waits for Grantaire to shake his head before continuing. “Then figure it out.”

Grantaire’s dick twitches and he’d really like to touch it but he knows from past experience that it’s hard to get off with his hands like this, and beyond that, he already needs to piss and the longer he fucks around, the longer it’s going to be before he will be able to. He grips the bottle between his forearms again and grabs the twist top with his teeth. It’s awkward, and he has to release the cap a few time to turn it, but eventually he gets the cap off and spits it at Enjolras’s feet.

“I’m sorry?” Enjolras says cooly.

Grantaire recognizes a chance to redeem himself and does not take it. “I’m not.”

“You will be later.” He gestures at the bottle with his chin. “Drain that. You have three minutes.”

Grantaire wastes a few precious seconds blinking at Enjolras in shock before he gets to it. He isn’t sure he can grab it with his arms without the water going everywhere and he wastes a few more moments trying to figure out an alternative before giving in and putting his mouth over the opening and squeezing it.

It’s messy, but Grantaire slurps the whole thing as fast as he can, upending the bottle to get the dregs out, and grinning in satisfaction when he finishes. He hadn’t realized Enjolras was looking at his watch until Enjolras looks up at him.

“Four minutes. You’re slipping, R.”

Grantaire is almost certain Enjolras is lying, but he doesn’t have any way to prove it, and it’s not like he’s ever minded getting punished. “Sorry, sir. I’m used to drinking with my hands.”

“I wasn’t aware your hands could drink.”

Grantaire cracks a grin. “Was that a joke?”

Enjolras’s face doesn’t betray a thing, and Grantaire appreciates Enjolras’s commitment to the role. “Do I look like I’m joking?” He doesn’t, and Grantaire’s dick does another little jump. “What’s your number, Grantaire?”

Grantaire thinks about it. It’s not urgent, yet, but the need that was already there feels immediately increased by the water he just drank, and he knows that’s not how it works, but it feels like it might be in this one case. The water is circling down into his bladder and with each passing second the ache growing. “Seven point five,” he says, almost confidently.

“Hmm. We’ll have to otherwise occupy ourselves until you’re really feeling it.” Enjolras turns his back and walks into the living room and Grantaire follows, a little unsteady on his knees. He has to catch himself a few times, hands not catching him like he expects. It’s hard to lever himself back up with his hands so bound up, and his feet are beginning to ache, which he thinks might be throwing off his balance, but his cock is stupid hard. He wants to touch himself very badly but he’s not sure what Enjolras would say, and he’s not sure he wants to risk Enjolras’s ire this early.

Enjolras is sitting on the couch and Grantaire scoots himself as close as he can between Enjolras’s legs. Even that small amount of crawling has made Grantaire’s stomach swish uncomfortably with water, and he feels like maybe he’s at and eight now. “Sir?”

Enjolras reaches out and cradles Grantaire’s cheek, and Grantaire leans into him with a sigh. “How would you like to hurt for me a little while we wait for your body to get with the plan?”

Grantaire’s cock gives another hopeful jump. “Cabbage, sir.”

“Vegetable, not a color.” Enjolras reaches into a bowl that’s sitting above Grantaire’s eye line and pulls out a set of nipple clamps. They’re not the tightest they have, but they have terrible little teeth and Enjolras likes to set them tight. “Still green?”

“Sir, yessir!” Grantaire displays his chest, putting his bound hands behind his neck and doing a little shimmy.

Enjolras is grinning as he moves in with the clamps, and Grantaire doesn’t know why until they are snapped on his nipples. He doubles over in shock and pain, hands immediately fluttering between the icy burning pain of his nipples and his cock, which spilled a little piss at the shock of pain. He can’t do anything with his hands the way they are, though, can’t remove the nipple clamps or press against his cock to keep it from dripping. He lets out a stuttering moan, arms shaking, unsure of what to do. The burning in his nipples is growing by the moment, and he’s finally cognizant enough to realize Enjolras must have had them in a bowl of ice. He reaches his hands towards the clamps and Enjolras gives him a light tap on the cheek.

“Ow,” he says wetly, tears clustering in his eyes. He shakes his fists helplessly.

“Is that how we say thank you for a gift?” 

Grantaire shakes his head, sniffling back the tears. “Thank you sir, it really fucking hurts.”

Enjolras smiles, dragging him in by the back of the neck for a kiss. “Good.”

The metal holds the cold well and Grantaire feels like there are ice cubes on his nipples—but ice cubes would have melted by now, and the compression only serves to make the pain sharper. He’s squeezing all his muscles so tightly he can feel that his feet are beginning to cramp and the harder he squeezes the more he has to piss and it’s so unfair he’s into this.

“However, you dribbled Grantaire, and that’s unbecoming. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Grantaire digs deep and comes up with, “Ow?” again, shaking with the pain and the stress. “Additionally, sir, I’d like to inform you I am at an eight point five.”

Enjolras reaches out, snagging the chain and giving it a hard pull. “Noted.”

Noted. Jesus Fucking Christ, Grantaire is going to die. “Noted and…?”

Enjolras tugs the chain again and it hurts so deeply Grantaire is almost worried that his nipples have been tugged off his chest. “Noted and I’m playing now. Do you need to interrupt my playing? Or are you trying to be obstinate?” He punctuates his words with tugs on the clamps and the pain is all going to his bladder now which is doubly unfair. 

The tears well up and fall over, slinking down his cheeks while he shakes. “No, sir.” He is acutely worried he’s going to piss himself right here in the living room, but Enjolras it seems thinks he can handle it, as there is no tarp or towel or anything. Grantaire does not have the faith in his bladder that Enjolras seems to have and he hopes he won’t disappoint Enjolras.

“Then be quiet, R. I didn’t ask for your input.”

Grantaire groans but tries to stay still and quiet and let Enjolras abuse his nipples. They’ve begun to thaw a little and the pain is more from the sharp points of them than the burning chill. His breathing is beginning to slow down and he’s pretty sure he’s mastering himself well when Enjolras unclips the clamps suddenly. His nipples burn again, fiercely, and he rubs at them with his tape covered fists, easing blood back into them. 

Enjolras waits until he stops to pull another pair out of the ice bowl and Grantaire starts crying again.

They go through the process two or three more times—Grantaire’s head is far to full of pain and endorphins for him to _count_ —before Grantaire reaches his breaking point. “Sir,” he says as Enjolras paws at his bright red and burning hot nipples. “I need to piss right now. Nine point nine nine nine.” He can hear the strain in his voice, how close he is to breaking.

Enjolras looks at him with well modeled confusion. “Am I stopping you? You’re independent enough to go to the bathroom on your own, aren’t you?”

Grantaire doesn’t think he’s going to be able to stop crying. He turns and begins knee walking to the bathroom, wiping away his tears with his taped hands. His bladder is a cramping pain in his side and every movement sends terrible ripples through it that only make it hurt more, and the current set of clamps bounce on his chest as he moves.

Despite what Enjolras said, he follows Grantaire to the bathroom, close on Grantaire’s heels, which only causes him to move faster, which exacerbates everything and is definitely exactly what Enjolras wanted to begin with. When he finally, finally gets to the bathroom the door is closed and Grantaire lets out a little sob.

“Sir?” he asks weakly. He knows what Enjolras is going to say, he knows it, but he’s a stupid masochist and he wants to hear it from Enjolras himself.

“Do you need help opening the door? I figured you’d be able, but if you need help…”

Grantaire wipes his tears away and ignores how pleased his dick seems about the current events. He brings his fists up to the door and tries to turn the doorknob, but it’s too close to the doorjamb on one side and he can’t get his hands in the right place to be able to turn and they just keep slipping. He’s in the hall, which is better than the living room, but despite how hard his dick is, he can feel a little bit of piss slip out of him and wants to scream.

He gives up on his hands and shoves his face at the doorknob. His mouth his big enough he can fit the doorknob, and he grips it with his teeth, turning his head to the side and trying to get the knob to turn with it. It gets close before it slams back to starting position and he only stops himself from banging his head on the door because he knows Enjolras won’t let it.

Grantaire turns around to ask Enjolras for help, and Enjolras is looking at him with blatant wonder and horniness. “Sir?”

Enjolras shakes his head, still looking a little dazed. “Sorry, I just had an idea. Not for now. You can keep going.”

Grantaire is in rather a lot of pain and there’s a decent chance he’s going to piss himself, but he has to know. “Tell me?”

Enjolras swallows hard, hand coming to hover over his cock, but not making contact. “Just—just tying you to a door, using a doorknob as a gag.”

“Oh.” Grantaire pictures it, kneeling—oh god, or standing, even worse, his fucking back—anchored to the door by his big fucking mouth with a strand of rope keeping his attached. “Avocado, yes, let’s do that, but I am going to fucking piss myself here.”

“Still a vegetable not a color. Better get biting, then.”

Grantaire mutters, “Technically it’s a fruit.” He’s squirming as he bites the doorknob again, and manages to turn it enough that the lock click and all but head butts the door open. The tiles are even harder on his knees than the wooden floor was, but at least relief is in sight when it occurs to him that they way Enjolras has him tied up, he can’t actually stand up to take a piss. His stomach spasms again and he can feel himself dripping before he gets ahold of himself again. Enjolras is standing in the doorway, looking suave and amused and Grantaire thinks he might start crying again.

“Sir?”

Enjolras smiles at him, crossing his arms again. “Do you need instructions or something?”

Grantaire’s cock twitches at that, as if it hasn’t caused enough trouble already. He wishes his cock didn’t enjoy being humiliated as much as it did. “I can’t stand,” he whines. He wants to pull his hair or grab ahold of something for support, but he can’t with his hands bound and as aways the helplessness makes him feel like he’s on a hair-trigger.

“On the contrary. You can stand, it’s just going to hurt.”

That’s exactly what Grantaire is afraid of. He knows it’s going to hurt, and sometimes he can like a hurt and it can still be too much for him to stay hard through, and he really wants to cum today. 

Enjolras gives him a magnanimous smile. “Here,” he says, “I’ll help you.”

Grantaire is basically in front of the toilet and Enjolras moves to the side of him. Enjolras reaches out and grabs the chain between the clamps, and begins systematically pulling Grantaire upwards by his tits. Grantaire tilts himself up as much as he can on his knees, but he hits a wall pretty soon, where the pain in his nipples is increasing, but his ability to move upwards isn’t. He whines, shaking, but there are no other options, really. If he stays on his knees, there’s a chance Enjolras is going bruise his nipples to hell and besides which, he’s going to piss whether he wants to or not, and he’d prefer it to not be all over the floor. Cautiously, he puts one foot out, balancing himself with his hands on Enjolras’s hips as he raises himself to one foot.  
It’s excruciating. The pressure of part of his body weight is enough to cause instant cramping in his foot, and his hindered toes make his balance trash, but the hand Enjolras has on him is only increasing the pressure, so soon enough Grantaire is trying to ease his way onto the other one, too. Standing sends little bolts of pain up his legs and the pain from his nipples and feet and distended bladder all meet in the middle. Time freezes for a moment Grantaire is in overwhelming rapturous pain and he’s sure he’s going to cum or piss or maybe just faint like a victorian lady.

The piss wins out, and it hurts, body aching from holding it in too long, and it burns like fire as it moves through him. His stomach clenches and everything hurts—shouldn’t it feel better?—and he’s still alight with bright white pain and just a little satisfaction.

He’s relatively sure he didn’t make it into the toilet, but it’s easier to pretend when he’s in the bathroom. His legs give out right after his bladder and Enjolras eases him onto the ground. He’s lying a puddle of endorphins and sore muscles and Enjolras and a few hard cocks. “How was that, sir?” he asks, slurring slightly. His body is throbbing and he still sort of feels like he has to pee.

“Hot,” Enjolras says, and unclips the nipple clamps. Grantaire shrieks, hands going to soothe his nipples. “Think you have a little more in you?”

“Lettuce,” Grantaire says. He doesn’t know what more would entail, but hopefully orgasms and he would really like one, please.

Enjolras grins, leaning down to kiss one aching nipple then the other. “Another vegetable. It’s almost like you don’t want me to let you cum.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello my name is gabe racetrackthehiggins and i am ALMOST HALFWAY DONE


	7. Day Thirteen: Spanking and Frottage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains: spanking (paddling), frottage, hand jobs, and uhh sexual bureaucracy

Grantaire is sitting on the bed, idling tapping their newest paddle on his thighs when Enjolras walks in. He lifts an eyebrow and taps it against his thigh again, an invitation.

“Are you asking me to beat your ass?” Enjolras asks, coming over to him to kiss him thoroughly. Once Grantaire is good and kissed, body pliant and lips chasing his, Enjolras disengages, waiting for Grantaire to answer his question.

“I am begging you to beat my ass. Very, very different.” Grantaire is dressed in a tank top and boxers and Enjolras wants to strip him naked and kiss him all over, and also beat him senseless. Enjolras is a man of complexities, and Grantaire is a man who likes to get beaten.

Enjolras kisses him again. “Okay. Get naked for me.”

Grantaire gives him a lazy salute, sliding off the bed and stripping naked with remarkable speed. “How do you want me?” he asks.

Enjolras considers. “Hands and knees, please.”

“Yessir.” Grantaire is grinning manically, and he gets into position with a little ass wiggle that is definitely supposed to be sexy but that Enjolras just finds endearing. “Please beat my ass at your leisure.”

Enjolras picks up the paddle. It had been a Grantaire centered purchase, a little heavier than Enjolras would have liked, and too narrow get at a large section of Grantaire’s ass at once. It was silicone, with a diamond tread pattern on one side, and something solid on the inside, possibly, Enjolras thought, some sort of light weight metal. Enjolras didn’t like the thuddy-ness of the paddle personally, but it wasn’t his ass about to be thudded on.

“How many do you want?”

“Forty,” Grantaire replies, bratty, all bluster.

He could give Grantaire forty, has before, but he won’t today. He wants less heavy today. “Forty is a lot.”

Grantaire groans, looking at Enjolras over his shoulder with an extremely put upon expression that makes Enjolras swoon a little. “I am in charge of telling you how many I would ideally like, you are in charge of giving me the number you want me to get. Let me be ambitious in my overestimation of the toughness of my ass, please, sir.”

He’s not wrong, per se, so Enjolras decides to figure out how many licks he’d like to give Grantaire as he goes along, see how well Grantaire is taking hits today. He cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders a couple of times, preparing himself, then lets the paddle fly. The first few hits are warmups, right against the swell of Grantaire’s ass, and they aren’t very hard, just intended to pink up the skin a little, but Grantaire rocks against them anyway. The area colors fast under the onslaught of the admittedly heavy paddle, blushing pink and then reddish as Enjolras swings harder.

Grantaire’s hands are fisted in the sheets and he moans and rocks with each hit, cock hard and muscles tense. Enjolras works up his ass and down his thighs, smacking the skin from red to bruised and Grantaire groans and sweats and pants. Grantaire’s skin always colors up so nicely, it’s hard to stop himself from wanting to make it blue and black and purple, painful for days instead of hours, but today is not that kind of day, so he keeps the hits lighter and spread out.

When Enjolras pauses, he reaches out to grab Grantaire’s cock and Grantaire jolts like he’s been electrocuted, humping into Enjolras’s hand. “How are you feeling, Grantaire?”

“Groovy,” Grantaire says, sounding hoarse, and squirming in his grip. “Wanna cum, sir, if that works with your plans.” It was in the plans, which is good, but even if it wasn’t, it’s hard to resist Grantaire when he’s like this, soft and pliable and hurting so good for Enjolras. How’d he get so fucking lucky?

Enjolras kisses his back, warm and sweaty and muscular. “Absolutely. Want me to smack you around a little more or are you ready to move to the next item on the agenda?” 

Grantaire grins at him over his shoulder. “I musta missed the agenda for this week, was there anyone taking minutes when it was discussed?”

Enjolras gives him a barehanded smack on his ass and Grantaire groans, still working his hip against Enjolras’s hand. He squeezes down on Grantaire’s cock, holding it still as Grantaire whines. “Motion to keep you from cumming for the next two weeks, all in favor? Yea,” he says, biting down on Grantaire’s ass to hear him yelp. “All opposed?”

“Nay,” Grantaire says weakly.

Enjolras kisses the bite, which doesn’t actually soothe anything, as Grantaire’s ass is a mess of future bruises. “Alas, a stalemate,” he says, and because he’s a good boyfriend and dom ignores Grantaire when he mutters, “alas, a cornucopia of love.” Instead, he begins jerking Grantaire off with one hand, and shucks his pants with the other. He rubs his cock up against Grantaire’s ass, which is blistering hot and they both moan. He rocks his hips into Grantaire’s ass, jacking Grantaire off at the same pace.

“Not even gonna fuck me?” Grantaire gasps, sheets still clutched in his fists. He is riding the wave that Enjolras is inflicting on him like a champ, fucking into Enjolras’s hand and holding himself up on his hands and knees despite the fact they’re beginning to shake.

“It was on the agenda,” Enjolras says, thrusting against him. “But there weren’t enough yea votes for the motion to pass.”

“Motion to amend the agenda right the fuck now.” Grantaire bucks against him, breathless, thrusting into his hand wildly.

“Denied,” Enjolras says, wrapping his hand around the head of Grantaire’s cock and listening to the choked off groan as he cums. Enjolras follows suit a few moments later, cumming all over Grantaire’s red ass.

Grantaire collapses face first onto the bed. “Thank you. Is the next item on the agenda a wet washcloth and a nap, sir?”

Enjolras follows him down with a laugh. “You bet,” he says, and kisses him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so tired yall!!!!


	8. Day Fifteen: Massage and Body Worship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has: light bondage, massages of the extremely painplay variety, body worship/praise, and a gag

Grantaire is thoroughly tied to the bed, which is not exactly what he had been expecting when he had told Enjolras that he was feeling sore, but he’s not really in a position where he wants to complain. He likes being tied down and he likes the nefarious ideas that Enjolras seems to get from his offhanded comments.

Nonetheless, he is almost spread-eagle, tied more stretched out than normal, and blindfolded to boot. When Enjolras had asked if he wanted it to be a surprise, he hadn’t expected a blindfold, but that really seemed like a lack of foresight on his part. Above him, and not on the bed, he hears Enjolras ask, “Plug?” and Grantaire is an idiot who likes to be fucked so he says, “yes, please,” blindly, and blindfolded.

The plug in question is surprisingly narrow but long, and hits deeply, skirting his prostate without applying all that much pressure—a tease—but gets thick around the base and the last few inches feel like a different plug all together. It’s bizarre to feel so empty and full at the same time, and he’s sure Enjolras is going to find a way to make it worse. He can’t wait.

The bed shifts under him, and he hears Enjolras muttering to himself. “What scent do you find least objectionable? We have: lavender, sweet almond, patchouli—no scratch that, I hate that—and lemon zest. Thank you, I guess, Joly.”

Grantaire laughs, as it all crystalizes into place. Ah, a massage. He’s not sure why he needs to be plugged or tied down for a massage but he trusts Enjolras’s vision and his judgment. If Enjolras thinks he needs to be tied down, it’s because Enjolras is planning something evil and horrible that will make Grantaire cum like a rocket, or at least want to. “Sweet almond, sir,” he replies, both because it is genuinely the one he likes the best and also because he knows Enjolras is sensitive to scents and there’s no reason to make his dom suffer when they could both be happy instead.

“Good,” Enjolras says, relief palpable. The scent fills the air, and the oil is cool as it lands on Grantaire’s back. Enjolras’s hands are shy at first, spreading the oil around, and it’s nice, it really is, but it’s a little less bondage-y than Grantaire had been hoping when Enjolras had gotten out the cuffs.

“Sir?” he asks, but doesn’t get much further because right then Enjolras digs in hard to the knot of muscles over his shoulder that are always tight and painful and sometimes hurt too much for him to even properly stretch them. He yells, jerking, but he’s tied down tightly and Enjolras is balanced on top of him, and the pain feels neverending. It is more painful than most massages he’s gotten because Enjolras is not adjusting so as to not overwhelm his pain tolerance and Grantaire thinks he might start crying before it lets up. The pain radiates in waves down his arm and up his neck and his nerves are going absolutely haywire when the knot dissipates under all the pressure and something fuzzy and almost orgasmic overtakes the pain.

“Fuck!” Grantaire shouts, still struggling despite the fact that the lack of pain might be the best thing he’s felt in his entire life.

“Color?” Enjolras asks. 

“Fucking,” Grantaire says and trails off, suddenly forgetting every color word he’s ever heard in his life. “Fucking lime, sir. That sucked so much, are you going to do it again?”

Enjolras smooths his hands over the plane of Grantaire’s back, which would be reassuring if it wasn’t almost definitely the precursor to more pain. “Yes, I am. Is that okay with you?”

Grantaire nods muzzily, collapsing into the bed. “Have at, sir.” His body is thrumming with endorphins and he wants to cry or laugh or have a free hand to take care of his very inconvenient erection that’s making a dent in the pillow-top. 

“You’re being so good for me,” Enjolras says softly, and Grantaire would give anything for him right then. His hands trail loosely down Grantaire’s back, touching lightly and not causing anything other than a few shivers. Grantaire is beginning to think that maybe it won’t actually end up being one of the top ten most painful experiences of his life when Enjolras singles in on his ass.

His thumbs find a knot right above the swell of his ass and dig in, mapping the site of pain, and then Enjolras’s full weight is behind them, pushing hard and sudden. Grantaire yells again, and fuck, maybe he should have asked for a gag. His whole body tenses up, tenses away, tries to move out from under Enjolras but he’s held down and tied in place. As his muscles squeeze, they clamp down on the plug inside of him and it’s the absolute worst. It’s too much and not enough all at once and he can feel his rim begin to spasm under the continued pressure. Grantaire’s cock is leaking against the bedspread and there’s a fair chance that his face is leaking under the blindfold and his head is ringing so much he can’t even tell if he’s still screaming.

When the pain lets up he hears himself sob, which answers that question. “Please,” he says, softly. “Fuck.”

“I’m trying to help,” Enjolras says softly. “It feels good at the end, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Grantaire concedes. “It feels like you’re dunking me in a pit of lava, sir, and then in the end it feels like you’re dunking me in an ice bath. There’s a lot of dunking and also a lot of pain and I might be delirious.”

Enjolras chuckles, kissing the back of Grantaire’s neck, which causes more shivering and goosebumps. “It’s supposed to hurt. And then feel better. It does feel better, yes?”

Grantaire has to, grudgingly, admit that it does. His back is already feeling a little looser, but his brain is so fuzzy with endorphins that he’s not sure how the pain actually compares to the pleasure. “It does feel better, sir, I’m just not sure it’s actually worth the pain part in the middle.”

Enjolras kisses the back of his neck again and Grantaire shivers again, because they are nothing if not predictable. “Are you green, Grantaire?”

Grantaire grumbles and then says, “Olive.” He _is_ green; he is sort of loving what all the pain and endorphins are doing to his brain but Jesus Christ it hurts. 

Enjolras tackles two more knots on his back and ass, before turning to Grantaire’s calves. “God, I love your calves,” Enjolras says rubbing oil along them. “You’re so fucking strong, Grantaire, it’s incredible. You could absolutely wreck me and yet you let me do these things to you.”

Grantaire groans at that, unable to contain himself. They are gross, he thinks, the kind of gross couple no one wants to get lunch with because they can’t stop staring at each other, only their kind of staring involves pain and orgasms. Grantaire is pretty sure he lost the plot somewhere in that metaphor but he lets himself off the hook due to the intensity of the brainfuck he’s experiencing. 

There’s a big knot on the back of Grantaire’s calf and when Enjolras’s fingers find it he barks out, “Mustard!” before he can stop himself.

Enjolras stills immediately. “What do you need, R?”

“A gag,” Grantaire says emphatically. “I am going to deafen the whole block if you make me take that with nothing in my mouth.”

Enjolras considers this, running his fingers lightly over Grantaire’s skin and it’s enough to make a man go mad. “Do you want me to move on or gag you?”

“Gag, sir,” Grantaire replies, because he’s orally fixated, sue him. 

Enjolras leaves the bed and returns a few minutes later. “Open,” he says, and when Grantaire does he shoves a wad of cloth into Grantaire’s mouth, sealing it in with microfoam tape, the kind that sticks well to skin but won’t take off skin or stray hairs. “Let’s test it,” he says and presses hard into the knot on Grantaire’s calf.

Grantaire howls, trying to buck off the bed, but he’s tied too tightly, and he collapses. The pain goes on and on and on until it suddenly abates and he’s sobbing into the mattress, grinding his dick into the soft sheet below.

“Seems to work pretty well. You doing okay still?” Grantaire gives him a thumbs up, followed by a middle finger, followed by another thumbs up and he hears Enjolras laughing behind him. “Good, you’re being so good for me. Taking this so well. Suffering beautifully. I love that about you, the way you’ll take whatever I dish out and just bear it. You’re incredible, R.”

The unfortunate thing about being gagged is that Grantaire has to sit and take this. He can’t argue back, or sass Enjolras, and he can feel himself blushing under the onslaught of compliments. He gives Enjolras the middle finger again, but Enjolras digs into the meat of his hip and Grantaire’s vision goes starry.

“I’m going to keep working out your knots,” Enjolras says, biting the shell of Grantaire’s ear to make him shudder again, “and telling you how much I love and appreciate you and this gorgeous body of yours. And then I am going to fuck you. Sound good?”

Grantaire gives him another thumbs up. It sounds awful. He can’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to prompt me babies ilu


	9. Days Twenty-One-and-Two: Exhibitionism and Formal Wear and Overstimulation and Impact Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am somehow still two days late but go easy on me
> 
> this chapter contains: sex toys under clothes in public, some public teasing, but plugs, short term chastity (cumming with a chastity device on), paddling, overstimulation, a little bit of talking down, a gesture in the general direction of collars/breathplay but not really at all, blink and you miss it stripping, "covert" discussion of sex acts by referring to them like food

Grantaire looks good in a suit. Enjolras has always thought so but it’s such a task getting Grantaire to actually dress up that Enjolras can count the number of times he’s seen Grantaire in one on one hand. Grantaire is at the bar, getting them both fancy soft drinks because Enjolras refused to play if either of them is intoxicated, and Grantaire is always a very good boy for him.

Grantaire comes back carrying two drinks, forehead a little sweaty, but not to the point other people would notice. His gait is off, too, but Enjolras is sure no one else notices that but him. He only knows because he’s the one who shoved the plug into Grantaire before they went to this shindig. It’s not a straight plug, but a little twisty and bumpy, and Enjolras had found it immensely distracting when he had tried it out.

“How’s it going?” he asks Grantaire when Grantaire is within reach.

“Considering murdering you,” he says, and then adds, “sir,” under his breath.

“Too much?”

Grantaire shakes his head, takes a sip of his drink and then says, “Could use some lime.”

It’s reassuring that Grantaire doesn’t feel too overwhelmed, even if Enjolras can’t imagine how. “Not lemon?”

“Nope.” Grantaire takes another long sip, giving Enjolras an obvious once over, clearly appreciating Enjolras in a suit. “Can I please take that off you later with my teeth?”

“I’ll consider it, if you behave yourself.” They’re hugging the wall, so no one sees when Enjolras slides his hand along Grantaire’s ass and presses hard on the plug. Grantaire jolts, nearly spilling his drink, and Enjolras can see him lock his knees to keep from collapsing. He’s so strong, and Enjolras wants to take him apart.

“You’re going to murder me in public.”

Enjolras leans in close to Grantaire’s ear. From the outside, it looks like he’s whispering, but Enjolras uses the shield of Grantaire’s hair to bite his ear. Grantaire moans loudly before cutting it off with a loud, fake-sounding cough. “Why would I want to murder you? Let alone in public.”

“Sir,” he whispers. His leg has begun shaking and it’s so hot that Enjolras might parade him out in public all the time if this is the reaction he’s going to get.

“How’s my other gift?”

Grantaire leans back hard against the wall, pressing himself onto the hand that Enjolras still has fixed on the plug, and he jolts again. “Still needs lime.”

The other gift had been a chastity cage. One of the cheap plastic ones, because Enjolras had learned not to go all in on a kink that neither of them was actually sure about. It’s not good for long term use, but that’s fine—they need to make sure it’s good for them before anything long term could even be on the table. It’s fun to fantasize about, sure, but if Grantaire doesn’t like it, it can go back to fantasy, like threesomes and waxplay. 

“That’s good.” Enjolras pushes hard on the plug again and Grantaire jolts. It can’t be obvious, no one is even looking their way, but Enjolras is beginning to feel overly protective. “Want to get out of this place?”

“What’s at home?” Grantaire asks, like they’re talking about dinner.

“I have some meat I could tenderize for us,” Enjolras says and winces. 

Grantaire barks out a laugh and then freezes, probably at the feel of the plug with his stomach tensing so hard. “Shit, sir,” he whimpers. “Please go grill us some meat.”

“Grill?” Enjolras asks, and knows he’s in trouble when Grantaire smirks.

“I wanna see lines on my meat.”

Enjolras groans and gives Grantaire’s ass the most subtle smack that he can. Grantaire rocks forward again. His forehead is getting a little sweatier and it’s not that warm inside the venue. “We’ll see. Maybe I just want mine rare, red all over.” Grantaire swallows hard and Enjolras grins. “Okay, let’s go.”

They squeeze out the side door and into the cooler air and Grantaire breathes a sigh of relief, beginning to loosen his tie before Enjolras clears his throat. He loves Grantaire all dressed up for him, like a present, and he wants to devour Grantaire. 

“No, sir?” Grantaire asks slowly, trying to piece together what Enjolras wants.

“No.” Enjolras steps in close and pulls the tie tight again, and then just a bit tighter so it’s putting pressure on Grantaire’s throat with every breath, every swallow. It’s not enough to choke but it sure seems to feel like it. Grantaire swallows hard, and Enjolras watches his Adam’s apple slowly move past the obstruction. 

“Kale,” Grantaire says before Enjolras can ask.

“Good. Let’s walk home.”

“Walk?” Grantaire asks, concern creeping into his voice again. “What happened to the uber we took here?”

Enjolras raises an eyebrow at him in mock confusion. “They have terrible business practices, R, you can’t possibly be asking me to support them despite that.” Grantaire has a frozen, perplexed face on and Enjolras leans in close, sticking his hand in Grantaire’s pocket to press at the plug. “Don’t worry,” he whispers in Grantaire’s ear. “I know this stuff is hard. Requires a lot of thinking. That’s why you have me to make decisions for you, isn’t it?”

Grantaire whimpers, but begins walking in the direction that Enjolras leads him. It’s a ten minute walk, which would be nothing usually, but that Enjolras anticipates might be a major thing for Grantaire with that particular plug in his ass.

About halfway through, Grantaire makes a little gasp that stops them in their tracks. “Can I cum, sir?” he asks in a strangled whisper. There’s no one around, Enjolras had made sure to steer them clear of any people, but he knows the idea of asking for something like this while outdoors is one of those things that both scares Grantaire and pushes his buttons. 

Enjolras makes a show of pretending to think, pushing Grantaire’s hair back as he hmms. “I’m pretty sure that if I had intended you to cum, I wouldn’t have locked up your little cock, now would I?”

Grantaire lets out a strained moan, clearly trying to contain himself. “If you say that again, I’m gonna cum regardless.”

Enjolras is honestly a little surprised at that, but it makes him harder in his fancy dress pants, which only makes him want to get them home quicker. “Absolutely do not if you’re planning on sitting anytime soon. But,” he leans close to Grantaire’s ear, pulling Grantaire flush with him so that Grantaire can feel Enjolras’s hard cock against his hip, “for information's sake, which was the thing that got you all hot and bothered? ‘If I had intended for you to cum,’ or ‘locking up your little cock?’”

Grantaire is panting, face flushed, and he looks at Enjolras with naked want and desperation. “Please,” he begs, whiny tone and all.

“No,” Enjolras says firmly. “When we get home. Get a move on.”

Grantaire groans again but takes a cautious step, and then another. He’s moving so, so slowly, but they’re headed home and sooner rather than later, Enjolras is going to stake a claim on that ass. When they get to the stairs of their apartment, Grantaire all but starts crying. Enjolras pushes him up the stairs, no easy feat as Grantaire is like a wall of stubborn muscle, bit then they are in their apartment, and Grantaire is standing before him shaking like a leaf with a visible wet spot on his pants.

“Did you cum?” Enjolras asks him, face impassive and haughty eyebrow raised. He wouldn’t actually be mad about it if Grantaire had. He loves a punishment scene as much as the next man, and honestly if Grantaire can cum with a cock cage on, then that registers more as hot than a disappointment. 

Grantaire shakes his head. His fists are clenched, and Enjolras can physically feel how much his boy wants to strip naked and get fucked. “Came close, sir. But I didn’t.”

“No, of course not. You’re so good for me. You wouldn’t cum without permission, now would you? No, of course not, just leak like a broken faucet. Have to call a mechanic to get you fixed, before you ruin my floors.”

“Hnnnn.” Grantaire’s eyes are squeezed closed, and he looks like he can’t take any more, which just makes Enjolras want to push him. 

“You don’t want to do that, do you?”

“No, sir.” Grantaire shakes his head but he still hasn’t opened his eyes.

“No, sir, what?”

Grantaire’s eyes open wide and he looks at Enjolras with a mix of scared and turned on, and it’s unfair they’ve gotten this far and they haven’t even left their foyer yet. “No, sir, I don’t want to ruin your floors.”

Enjolras grins, going in for the kill. “And how would you be ruining my floors?”

Grantaire swallows hard, tie knot still pressing against his throat. “With my leaking, sir.” He’s certain Grantaire would be hard if he could be, and it’s hot enough that Enjolras barely resists the urge to grip his own cock. 

Instead, he takes off his jacket, throwing it onto the couch and loosening his tie. “You do listen. I wasn't sure if that would be beyond a slut like you.”

Grantaire’s face is wanton and desperate and he thrusts his hips at nothing. “Please, sir,” he says, but Enjolras isn’t sure he knows what he’s asking for.

“What would you like, R? Want to cum? Want to let me smack you around a little? Want to get fucked? Want to fuck me?”

Grantaire’s eyes widen, his breath coming heavier. “Yes, please. Any of that. All of it.”

Enjolras smiles at him, predatory. “I believe I promised you some tenderizing, didn’t I? Get your clothes off and brace yourself on the bed. I expect you to be ready when I’m ready to join you.”

Grantaire takes off, power walking down the hall. it would be comical if Enjolras wasn’t also so hard he’s worried his brain isn’t getting enough blood. He takes his time, toeing off his shoes and unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt. He rolls up his sleeves, too, but doesn’t strip beyond that. He promised Grantaire could strip him if he was good, and he doesn’t want to take away Grantaire’s prize without reason.

When he finally gets to the bedroom, Grantaire is naked, bent over and braced on the bed, his formal clothes neatly tucked into the hamper. He’s fidgeting, and every so often his cage brushes up against the bed and he whines, hips jittering to try and get more contact, but it’s denied him. 

Enjolras thinks chastity might work for them after all.

He’d like to see how much Grantaire would beg after a week of this.

“Sir?” Grantaire asks, after Enjolras fails to acknowledge him. “Are you here?” He doesn’t turn around to check, which Enjolras finds endearing. 

“Yes, I am,” Enjolras says. “But I don’t remember telling you to speak.” It’s a cheap shot—he didn’t tell Grantaire not to talk either, but Grantaire either doesn’t remember that or can’t think clearly enough to piece it together.

“I’m sorry, sir, you’re right I shouldn’t have—“

“Still talking!” Enjolras snaps, and Grantaire silences himself. “Better. Color?” Grantaire sees through this trap and gives Enjolras a thumbs up. “Good boy. Very clever, smart boy.”

Grantaire preens under the attention, which is nice. Sometimes he’s less agreeable and Enjolras has to beat some sense into him. He’s still going to beat him, but it’s nice to know Grantaire isn’t hating himself today.

“Any implement requests?” Grantaire shakes his head. In their closet are a number of toys: paddles, crops, floggers, belts, and a whip that Enjolras absolutely despises using. He thinks about it a moment, unsure of what to use. He wants to mark Grantaire up, maybe bruise him a little, but they’re both keyed up and probably can’t manage anything too complicated. He hesitates a moment longer and picks up a silicone paddle. It’s lightweight, stingy and awful, and Enjolras absolutely hates it when used on himself.

Grantaire _also_ hates it, but hates it in a way where sometimes he begs for it to be used on him while he cries. 

He gives a few experimental taps against his hand as walks back to the bed and it’s just as bad and stingy as he remembers. Wincing, he places a hand on Grantaire’s ass. “Do you want the plug out? You’ll have to make me a deal if you do.”

Grantaire groans, hiding his head in his arms. “No, sir. Leave it.”

Smart. He has learned that making deals mid-scene is always trading something sort of mean for something significantly meaner, and he isn’t wrong this time either. “Okay, good. Stay put.” Enjolras gives the paddle a few swings and then brings it down hard on Grantaire’s ass. Grantaire shouts, shooting out of position and then collapsing back into it as soon as he can.

“Fuck, sir, I’m sorry!” he yells, and Enjolras could definitely punish him for moving, but it’s more fun to wait. 

“That was your one chance,” he says simply and Grantaire shivers. “And your last chance to prove you know what it means to not talk.” He brings it down a few times, more gently, on the other ass cheek. Grantaire groans, stiffening, but doesn’t rear up again. He gives a few a more at the same pace and strength, then brings it down full strength on the first spot again.

Grantaire shouts, collapsing on the bed. He’s still technically holding himself up, and Enjolras watches him sob, ass clenching against the plug inside of it. 

“Is that all you got?” he asks Grantaire. It might be, he’s not going particularly easy on Grantaire right now, and he knows it. “I thought you wanted to be smacked around? Or is that only fun to talk about in public, where everyone can look at you and be scandalized by your nasty mind and nasty desires. Is that it, Grantaire? Have I been too forgiving of your disgusting habits?”

Grantaire sobs into his arm, giving Enjolras a thumbs up even as he tries, and fails, to right himself. 

Enjolras waits patiently for Grantaire to stand again before he continues. “I thought you had a pain tolerance. Surely you’re not telling me those baby swats were it? Weak, Grantaire. I’m not sure I would have offered if I knew you couldn’t take it.” His one ass cheek is much darker than the other, and Enjolras makes a show of hitting the less bruised one, spreading out the hurt and varying in strength, and when some of the tension has leached out of Grantaire’s shoulders, he strikes at the sore spot again.

He’s gotten Grantaire red all over, and begins working for some bruising, ignoring the parts that will hurt when he sits—today—in favor of a smattering of spots that will leave a warm achy feeling over the next couple of days. With each smack now, Grantaire involuntarily squeezes his ass down on the plug and Enjolras isn’t sure how much longer he can take that level of stimulation before—

“FUCK!” Grantaire screeches, barely keeping himself up. “Fucking, lemon—fuck!”

Enjolras stills. “What’s wrong, love?”

Grantaire turns to look at Enjolras over his shoulder and says very plainly, “If I am being real honest with you, sir, I just had a deeply unpleasant orgasm all over the duvet.”

There’s something about the way Grantaire says it that kills him, and it takes every ounce of Enjolras’s control not to laugh. “So I see you didn’t want your reward, then,” Enjolras says, tossing the paddle on the bed. It makes a soft thump as it hits the duvet and Grantaire flinches. “Prepared to take it yourself.”

Grantaire’s expression goes a little fuzzy, like it always does when Enjolras whips out the stern dom voice. “It was an accident and also, again, extremely unpleasant, sir, but go off I guess.”

Enjolras cocks an eyebrow at him and Grantaire shivers. Grantaire is so painfully predictable, but Enjolras loves it. “I don’t believe I gave you permission to have an accident, did I?”

Grantaire groans, rocking into the bed. “No, you did not, sir.”

“What did it feel like,” Enjolras asks, because he can’t resist. Unpleasant encompasses a lot of experiences, and he wants nothing but the best of unpleasantness for his boy.

“Uhhh,” Grantaire takes a moment, licking his lips, and it is so unfair how hot he is. “It felt…forced? Not many endorphins. Kinda like being punched in the abdomen repeatedly.”

“Hmm. Regardless, that’s two punishments I owe you, then.” Grantaire doesn’t argue, and Enjolras takes the moment where Grantaire realigns his expectations to think of what the fuck he wants to do to Grantaire. There are so many options, and many of them he hasn’t prepared for. 

“Granny smith,” Grantaire says after a long moment, turning to face the bed again.

“No, no,” Enjolras says, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling him upwards off the bed. Grantaire comes willingly, body limp and leadable. He can see the cum stain on the duvet, and thinks he’ll probably make Grantaire lick it off later. “Put your hands behind your head.” Grantaire does so instantly, obedient to a fault. “Good boy. I want you to sit on the bed, on the edge of it. I want all of your weight pressing on your pretty boy bruises and that plug that I gave you as a gift. And I want you to roll your hips on it.”

Grantaire looks scared, but doesn’t back down. He waits for Enjolras to let go of his hair, and then lowers himself gingerly onto the bed. He grimaces as he makes contact, and Enjolras is sure it’s far from pleasant, but he can see Grantaire’s cock twitch in its prison. “Oh fuck, sir,” he says, rocking gently on the plug. “It fucking hurts.”

Enjolras begins unbuttoning his shirt and Grantaire’s eyes are on him immediately, an expression of open want on his face. “What hurts, exactly?”

Grantaire groans. “My cock, sir. I’m way too sensitive for the amount of pressure this is putting on my prostate. And my ass.”

Enjolras finishes on the shirt and drapes it over the hamper. “Good. I want it to hurt.” He unbuckles his belt and Grantaire whines, high and needy.

“Sir?”

“You’re going to sit there and rock on your plug until your little dick shoots again, and because you were bad, I’m going to get myself off while you watch.” Grantaire huffs. His legs are beginning to shake a little, but he can handle more than this. He watches Enjolras strip down to his boxers, then naked, practically salivating. Enjolras knows how much Grantaire enjoys stripping him, and it feels a little cruel, but that’s the entire point, he supposes.

Grantaire whines again, looking at Enjolras with near desperation, and Enjolras takes his cock in his hand with a smile. Maybe, he thinks, he’ll make Grantaire go again. And then maybe, they’ll try the cage out for a few more days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have seven of these left to write and i've seen ur comments and anons and am trying to squeeze it all in, but if you've got shit u wanna see anon/message me


	10. Days Twenty-Three-and-Four: Double Penetration and Shower Sex and Sweat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i keep combining days i've been in chronic illness hell and this is the only way i'm gonna catch up lol
> 
> this chapter contains: dp in one hole, butt plugs/large butt plugs, shower sex, sweatiness, masturbation, gags, bondage, a little bit of orgasm denial (with a happy ending), humiliation/meanness/talking down, a wee bit of objectification and some visceral fantasies
> 
> i think i may have missed something but uhh that's probably it? i'm not sure i like this one but it's a lot of fics they're not all gonna be winners

The dildo is Enjolras-shaped, long and and slightly curved, and it’s been in Grantaire’s ass for what feels like hours, and he should be loose enough by now. Enjolras slides a finger in next to it and tuts. “Still too tight. Have you been trying to loosen up at all?”

Grantaire has, in fact, been trying to loosen up, but Enjolras had made it hard with his constant interruptions, removing Grantaire’s fingers or other toys to press his own in instead. After the third or fourth time he had switched out toys, he had said, “I’m not sure why I left you with hands if you aren’t going to use them to help out,” and had handcuffed Grantaire’s hands behind him.

He had, in fact, been helping before Enjolras had removed Grantaire’s fingers from his ass.

He had been on his knees for ages, shoulders aching from the strain, and eventually Enjolras had gagged him, too, to stop the backtalk. It was a cock gag, longer than it had any right to be, on the verge of choking him, and he chokes it on it happily, because Grantaire is nothing if not a masochist.

Choking, however, creates spit, and the strand of saliva making its way down his chest is the single most irritating feeling Grantaire has ever felt and yet somehow he is also hard. He’s beginning to sweat, a combination of the strain and how horny he feels, and there’s nothing for it. Enjolras is moving around behind him. He can hear Enjolras, but can’t see him, and so it’s only a little surprising when something presses against his asshole—which was already stuffed with cock.

It slips inside him more smoothly than he would have figured, and he can tell from the feeling that it's a small vibrator on a cord—slim, and hard, and strangely cold. When Enjolras turns it on, Grantaire bucks up, wanting desperately to rub his cock against something, but there’s nothing within reach, which he is certain is intentional. He moans, signally how much he’d like to cum, and Enjolras turns the speed up, which he maybe sort of deserves. If the hard vibration against the dildo was meant to loosen Grantaire up, it is having the opposite effect, as his whole body clenches in on it, eager to cum after so much teasing.

Enjolras circles him slowly, and Grantaire raises his head to stare at him. Enjolras is naked save for a tank top and boxers. He should look ridiculous or soft, but he looks so menacing that Grantaire’s cock snaps to attention. He moans again and Enjolras leans down to cup Grantaire’s cheek. A moment later, Enjolras removes the hand and strikes him across the face, which shouldn’t be so hot but god damn. He howls, but it’s muffled by the gag.

“I know you’re trying, R, really I do, but you have to do better. I want to fuck your loose sloppy hole, maybe have something else to slide my cock against while I do so, and your pathetic comments about stretchability and soreness are really not my concern. You ought to behave yourself, but I don’t know what I really expected from a slut like you.”

Grantaire moans, thrusting his hips as he grinds down on the toys. He’s so hard, and he wants that, wants Enjolras to stretch him, wreck him, make him unusable for anyone who isn’t Enjolras ever again, and he nearly cums untouched. He stops thrusting at the last possible second, panting with the effort of holding himself still when he wants nothing more than to finish across Enjolras’s shins. He’s a sweaty mess and he wants a shower or to be fucked, or maybe both in either order. 

“Next size up?” Enjolras asks him lightly and Grantaire nods, cautiously. “Good boy.”

Those words should not have the effect that they do on him, but Grantaire is a complex and complicated creature, thank you, and he’ll accept praise anyway he can. The plug Enjolras comes back with is a little bit bigger than “the next size up,” and Grantaire looks at it with saucer eyes, but nods his assent.

Enjolras pulls the dildo out but not the vibrator. The plug is big and it feels it, pushing his insides out of the way to make room for itself, and the combination of the vibrations with the new plug is almost overpowering. He can feel it vibrating through his stomach, all the way soul deep, he’s sure, and it feels like it’s going to pull him apart. He yells behind the gag, but Enjolras just gives him a patronizing pat on the ass and moves around to the front of him. 

Enjolras throws himself elegantly onto the chair he had placed directly in front of Grantaire and begins to rub at the outline of his cock through his boxers. Grantaire salivates immediately, which he chokes on, but there’s no helping it; Enjolras remains the hottest thing he has ever seen, and he wouldn’t look away even if he could.

“How’s it feel?”

Grantaire moans again, circling his hips on nothing. It feels so good and not nearly good enough, and he wants to cum. Enjolras pulls his dick out of the slit in his boxers and begins to fondle himself lightly. Grantaire is jealous both of the hand and the dick; he wants Enjolras to touch him and he fucking wants to cum. Grantaire makes an angry noise behind the gag, pulling at his binds, but Enjolras just laughs at him, running his fingertips across the head of his cock.

Grantaire is not sure he can stretch as wide as Enjolras is hoping for before he needs to cum. He’s not sure he can make it another minute without cumming, to be fair, and Enjolras is asking him once again to wait. He pushes his ass down onto the floor and thrusts against the dildo. The pressure, the deep, vibrating feel of it all, makes Grantaire nearly cum on the spot. Enjolras is hollowing out a spot for himself and Grantaire is fully prepared to let him.

After minutes or hours or celibate eternities, Enjolras smiles at him, hand still tugging at his dick and says, “Are you ready for the next one? We should move this along quicker. I’d like to cum inside you, but if it takes much longer I’m going to have to get myself off. You understand, don’t you?”

Grantaire does understand, but it doesn’t change the fact that he wants it. He wants Enjolras to cum in his ass, so he nods, and Enjolras goes to find their next biggest plug. Enjolras removes the current one perfunctorily, and it hurts so good. Grantaire doesn’t recognize the feel of it as Enjolras starts to push it inside of him, and is entirely unsure if it's new or old. It fits, but every inch Enjolras pushes into him feels like a fight. When it’s finally seated in him Grantaire feels woozy with endorphins. It hurts—not like fisting hurts, but maybe closer to that end than the average plug—and Grantaire is too horny for this. His shoulders are really beginning to ache from the strain, but if anything that only spurs him on further. He shakes some sweat out of his hair and moans. Enjolras settles back into the chair once more, lounging, and gives Grantaire a long, considering look.

He tries to indicate to Enjolras how much he would really like to be fucked right now, please, but Enjolras is too busy fucking into his own hand and pays no attention to his mumbled words. 

“Hurry it up,” Enjolras says softly, humping his own fist with wild abandon. “I’m not going to wait forever.” It shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but Grantaire is overcome with how fucking gorgeous Enjolras looks, and he wants Enjolras inside him more than he wants to cum, which is obnoxious.

He closes his eyes and tries to keep his body from clamping down on the plug and it sort of works. It feels less invasive, now, and he opens his eyes and pleads wordlessly to Enjolras to fuck him now, please. He’s sweaty and achy and he wants to be fucked.

Enjolras seems to get the hint. He walks around Grantaire, pushing Grantaire down so he’s propping himself up on his shoulder and his cheek, and begins removing the plug. Getting the widest part out hurts so much Grantaire thinks he might not be able to breathe past it, but eventually the thing is out and Grantaire is hiccuping little breaths. He feels eviscerated, cut open and spread out and he wants Enjolras to fuck the ruins of him.

“So tight. How are you always so tight, Grantaire? I have to stretch you out every time, and you bounce back like rubber.”

The dildo, the first one, makes a reappearance, entering him with no problem. Enjolras fucks it in and out a few times before pushing himself in next to it, and Grantaire is lost in a sea of sensation. He knows what’s coming, but it’s still a shock when Enjolras slides all the way in. He can’t tell if Enjolras is moving them in tandem or one and then the other, but he is stuffed with cocks on all ends and he’s moaning and letting himself be fucked, rocking back and forth with the force of the fucking. His cock is still hard, hanging down between his legs, but he can’t reach it, and he doesn’t have permission even if he did. He is wet with precum and sweat, and it’s so unfair how hot this all is.

“Fuck, you’re so hot, Grantaire. I want to fuck you forever.”

When Enjolras cums, he slides both cocks out in one fluid motion, and plugs his cum into Grantaire with one of the previous plugs before Grantaire has time to breathe. It’s maybe the best thing or maybe the worst, he is very confused at the moment, but it’s a good kind of confusion. He feels sated, even though he hasn’t cum, feels full and floaty, and he wants Enjolras to hold him.

“Flip over, love.” Enjolras helps roll him on his back. It’s not a sustainable position with his arms bound behind him, but he knows that Enjolras knows that, and that Enjolras won’t hurt him for real. His shoulders hurt, the muscles pulling, but the strain makes his head fuzzier, and that’s good. He’s still panting, his hair feels wet and he can feel the sweat cooling on his chest but it does nothing to stop the way his skin feels like it's burning.

Enjolras licks a line up Grantaire’s chest and Grantaire whines. It’s good, it’s so good, his nerves feel like they’re catching fire, but when he humps towards Enjolras there’s nothing there. He might be crying, or maybe it’s just sweat.

“God you taste good,” Enjolras says, pressing kisses to Grantaire’s sweaty skin. He kisses around Grantaire’s gagged mouth, which is just not fair, then grins, saying, “Let’s get you cleaned up so I can dirty you up, again.” He stands up and stands over Grantaire. “Go on, stand up.”

Grantaire is perfectly certain he can’t. His legs are bent beneath him and he doesn’t have his arms for leverage. He tries a couple of times to no avail before giving in and using his abs to lever himself up. He tenses and it hurts. Grantaire is sore, is aching, and squeezing his abs squeezes down on the plug and he needs to cum now more than ever.

His arms are still bound when Enjolras leads them to the bathroom. He manhandles Grantaire into the shower, turning it to cold so Grantaire will shriek, trying to shield his body from the icy spray with nothing, before turning it warmer. Grantaire is panting through his nose, wet and wired, cock undaunted by the change in temperature.

“Good boy,” Enjolras says, stepping into the shower and pulling Grantaire under the spray. “I’m going to wash your hair. You might want to keep your eyes closed.”

Grantaire does close his eyes, and Enjolras moves behind him. He wets Grantaire’s hair carefully, then puts one of their many hair products in it. Enjolras is careful and meticulous, and he has boxed Grantaire in, and Grantaire is about a minute from humping the shower wall. Enjolras yanks his head back hard to rinse the hair, and Grantaire’s dick twitches with every pull, like it's hotwired to his hair. 

“Good boy.”

He keeps his eyes closed, but he can tell when Enjolras moves onto soap, spreading suds across Grantaire’s body in gentle strokes, focusing on his nipples for far, far too long, and avoiding Grantaire’s cock altogether. Grantaire moans and begins fighting against the cuffs in earnest, trying to press himself as close to the wall as he can, desperate and ready.

“Do you want to cum, R?” Enjolras asks him, as though it’s occurring to him for the first time, and Grantaire would kill him if this wasn’t exactly what he had asked for. Grantaire nods emphatically and Enjolras laughs. “You should have said something,” he says, as though he didn’t gag Grantaire himself.

Grantaire’s witty reply is cut off by Enjolras’s hand wrapping around his cock. Grantaire cums after only a few pulls, so close to the edge, and Grantaire screams when he cums, shaking and milking the plug in his ass. His knees buckle but Enjolras catches him and shoves him against the wall. It’s so cold on his skin compared to the hot shower and Grantaire moans.

“Ready to go again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can u hear the sounds of my screaming


	11. Days Twenty-Five-and-Six: Scent Kink and Bondage and Stripping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is for ohgodsabove and contains: sweaters with associated scent/texture kinks, improve bondage, stripping, teasing, fond &gentle kink
> 
> i don't think im missing any warnings but i might be? it's soft

The sweater is one of Grantaire’s favorites—soft and overly large, and it smells so much like Enjolras that it is practically an advertisement for his cologne. It came in handy when Grantaire was cold, or lonely, or horny, or sometimes all three at once. It’s because of a combination of all three of those that he snuck the sweater out of the closet when Enjolras was working. 

Grantaire quickly strips off his clothes, wanting to put the sweater on his bare flesh. The sweater fit him a little tighter than it fit Enjolras, but he could still put it on despite their differences in size. It was worn soft and was maroon (naturally) and it made Grantaire feel very much like he was being hugged by Enjolras if he closed his eyes. 

He dips his head into the neckline, breathing in Enjolras’s scent, and maybe they haven’t had enough time to spend together lately, but the smell makes him feel settled and warm and also embarrassingly hard. Which is okay, he figures, as there is no one there to witness his embarrassing hard-on. Grantaire is good at planning, so he decides that he can jack off wearing the sweater and then have some time to lay around in it before Enjolras will get home from work.

The sleeves are a little long, because Enjolras may be shorter than him but he’s got long, strong arms, and the sweater sleeve brushes his cock when he reaches out to it. He wraps his fist around his cock, giving it a few firm pulls. He’s hard already, but the occasional brush of the soft material is enough to make him shiver every time it happens. Grantaire is sure his sex sounds are loud and irritating and obvious, but there’s no one else home and his neighbors can get fucked.

He moans into the body of the sweater where his nose is still buried, and considers whether it’s worth it to go get some lube and fuck himself a little, too. He blames his own loud noises and that his concentration is split evenly between deciding if fucking is in the cards and being so horny he could scream for the fact that he doesn’t notice anything until Enjolras clears his throat loudly from directly behind him.

Grantaire spins around, but his cock is hard and the sweater is stolen and he’s sure it’s immediately obvious what was going on. He’s made no secret of his love for the sweater, and Enjolras knows Grantaire is a whore for sensations. Enjolras gives him a firm look and Grantaire swallows hard. “I’m…sorry?”

“Not yet you’re not.” It’s not a question, not exactly, but they’ve been doing this together for long enough that not every scene requires formal negotiation, and this is a request for permission as much as Enjolras has ever asked.

“Avocado,” Grantaire says eagerly, grinning with his hand still on his dick.

“Anything you’re not feeling up to?”

Grantaire mentally goes through his list as fast as he can. “Noop. Think we’re gucci. Sir.”

Enjolras grins. “Well good, because I want to teach you what stealing gets you.”

Grantaire groans but steps towards Enjolras. “Very well, sir, I accept the consequences for my misdeeds.”

Enjolras doesn’t manage to hold his laugh in. “Come here,” he says, grin peeking out of the corners of his lips even as he tries to subdue it. Grantaire comes in close, releasing his cock, and letting the sleeves fall down over his hands. “Is it a texture thing? The sweater?”

Grantaire blushes. He’s not sure why this is so embarrassing considering the scope of the other shit they do. “The texture, and the smell. It feels like you, sir.”

Enjolras looks touched for a moment before the expression is replaced with what Grantaire can only call deviousness. “You’re such a romantic little pervert, aren’t you?”

Grantaire beams at him, giving his hips a little wiggle. Oh, so Enjolras is feeling soft today. That works for Grantaire. It isn’t like soft Enjolras doesn’t still turn him on. “I am for you, my love.” He gives Enjolras an exaggerated wink, and Enjolras cracks another smile.

“You are making it really hard for me to want to punish you,” he says sadly. “Lucky for you, I’m strong of character. Back up.” Enjolras winks back at him. “Since you seem to be so ready to get your hands in places they shouldn’t be today, we’re gonna practice a little restraint. This is a hands-off show.”

Grantaire groans, but obediently backs up a few paces. Once Enjolras is sure he has Grantaire’s eyes, he begins unbuttoning his button-up. He spends a few seconds longer than he needs to on each button, and it’s so unbearably slow that Grantaire fears he might lose whatever remains of his mind. “Can this be sped up?”

“Nope.” Enjolras shrugs the shirt off, revealing the white undershirt beneath it. “It can be slowed down, though.” When he bends over to untie his shoes, he turns to the side so that Grantaire gets a good view of his ass on display, before toeing his shoes off. He does the same for his socks. It’s not particularly sexy, but Grantaire has spent the day absent him, and wanting him terribly, and for him to be only a few feet away and teasing him is untenable.

“Sir, pleeeeease,” he whines, stamping his foot.

Enjolras laughs, taking his undershirt off quickly. He’s down to his khakis, but Grantaire is distracted by Enjolras’s bare chest, which feels more intimate in this moment than it usually does, and he wants to touch Enjolras.

“Hands on demo instead?” Grantaire begs. “Mayhaps, a hand job demo?”

Enjolras shakes his head, popping the button on his pants slowly, and moving the zipper down even slower. It takes ages for him to get his pants off, and even longer for his boxers, but then he’s naked and glorious, and Grantaire’s hard cock keeps brushing the soft material of the sweater and he wants to touch.

“Am I everything you imagined me to be while violating my sweater?”

Grantaire barks an ugly laugh, and Enjolras pulls him closer. “You are,” he says dreamily. Enjolras shakes his head, and spins Grantaire around in a single, smooth movement. Grantaire lets himself be moved and is not surprised, though a bit saddened, when the sweater is flipped over his head. The surprise comes when it isn’t flipped all the way over, instead just blocking his vision and filling his nose with the scent of Enjolras. The fabric is thin enough that he can breathe fine, even see a little, and although it isn’t the direction he had anticipated this scene going in, he is more than okay with this new direction.

Enjolras does something complicated-feeling, sliding Grantaire’s arms further up the sleeves and knotting them, before gathering the extra fabric up all along his arms, and suddenly it is tight around his face and shoulders and arms; the world’s softest armbinder.

“Color?”

“Foresty.” Grantaire is beginning to go a little swimmy feeling. The improvised bondage is surprisingly secure and a little overwhelming. He feels surrounded by Enjolras, breathing him, feeling his hands as Enjolras manhandles him against the wall. He turns his head so as not to smash it into the wall, and Enjolras puts a hand on it, holding his cheek to the wall.

“Can I suck you off?” Enjolras asks mildly, running his fingertips over the head of Grantaire’s cock. It’s not enough contact, and it feels terrible and good and Grantaire’s brain isn’t sure it can tell the difference right now.

“What’s the trade off, sir?”

He can hear Enjolras grin even though he can’t see his face right now. “You have to try and get me off without me removing your bondage.”

That sounded like a challenge, but a fun one, and Grantaire was never one to back down from anything, so he nods. “Have at, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've got like 5 more to write and they're probably all going to be in this fic bc im enjoying myself so there's still time to issue formal requests <3


	12. Day Twenty-Seven: Public Sex and Role Reversal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully posting 3 things today wish me luck lmao
> 
> this chapter contains: r domming for once, public sex (in a bathroom? public ish?) SOMEONE WALKS IN BUT THEY DO NOT NOTICE THE SEX AND THEN LEAVE, mild d/s, a little bit of manhandling, light teasing, a handjob, and uhhh i think that's it?

It’s not like they don’t take risks, because what’s more exciting than the possibility of getting caught? But not usually this much. Enjolras would never want someone to walk in on something they didn’t want to see, but all in all a bathroom isn’t so public, he supposes.

“Enjolras, if you don’t quiet down, I’m going to send you back out there with your cock still dripping in your slacks.”

Enjolras hadn’t meant to make a fool of himself, it was just that Grantaire had looked so handsome sitting in the coffee place, and he had gotten irrationally unhappy that he couldn’t just kiss the ever living fuck out of Grantaire right there. He couldn’t keep his eyes away, kept glancing at Grantaire, as subtle as he could, but Grantaire had caught him, and then caught on a few seconds later. “May I?” Grantaire had asked, and then swept his foot up Enjolras’s calf. Enjolras had flushed immediately, glancing around the cafe, but they were tucked in the corner and no one was looking so he had nodded hesitantly.

It was so deeply unfair how riled up he had gotten just from Grantaire running his leg up Enjolras’s thigh, but he had. Not so hard that he felt like he would be embarrassed to stand, but hard enough that he wanted resolution, and beyond that, he sort of wanted Grantaire to take control, and so when Grantaire had said, “Bathroom? Before we blow this popsicle stand?” Enjolras had gone with him without question.

They’re in the stall on the end, the furthest from the door they can be, and no one has come in so far, but the fear is there. Enjolras is pressed with his back against the wall, Grantaire’s leg spreading his thighs apart and Grantaire’s strong hand across his mouth while the other unbuttons his pants. Grantaire told him in no uncertain terms to put his hands in his pockets and keep them there, and he does even though it’s killing him.

“It’s almost like you want to be caught,” he murmurs into Enjolras’s ear. Grantaire’s being so quiet, body so still, and Enjolras feels like he’s never been louder, breath like a rattling can and bones clicking together as he shakes. “Is that what you want, love?”

Enjolras moans and Grantaire’s hand pushes harder. The door creaks, and the cafe sounds filter in. Someone walks heavily to the urinal, shoes clicking against the tile and Enjolras stills but Grantaire does not. He slowly slips his other hand into Enjolras pants and underwear, running his fingers along Enjolras’s cock and Enjolras chokes in a breath. It’s loud in the quiet bathroom, and the person at the urinal makes a confused little sound, but finishes up and leaves again without washing their hands.

Enjolras has a moment of regret at their choice of venue, but then Grantaire pushes him more firmly into the wall and his thoughts turn more towards adoration of Grantaire’s muscles. Grantaire’s hand squeezes up the length of Enjolras’s cock and he moans, catching himself at the last moment.

Grantaire’s voice is barely a whisper in his ear, leaning so close. “Maybe you need more practice if this is all it takes to get you moaning.” He licks the shell of Enjolras’s ear and Enjolras squeaks, muffled behind Grantaire’s hand but not nearly quiet enough. “Maybe I should parade you around town and touch you in all the back rooms until you’ve learned how to be properly quiet for me. Would you like that?”

There’s barely room for Enjolras to nod with his head pushed against the wall but he nods as much as he can, heaving breathes through his nose as Grantaire teases up and down his cock. He thinks he’s not going to last much longer which is embarrassing, but he’s not sure what he can do to stop it. It isn’t often he wants Grantaire to take control or that Grantaire wants Grantaire to take control, but it’s always extremely hot when he does. Between Grantaire and the somehow sexy fear of being caught in public with his pants down, Enjolras is swimming upstream against the force of his erection.

Enjolras tries to buck into Grantaire’s hand, but Grantaire just pushes back harder, thigh pinning down Enjolras’s hips, and Enjolras sucks in a desperate breath. He’s going to either cum or die in this fucking bathroom and both sound pretty good at this exact moment.

“Want to cum for me Enjolras?” Grantaire asks him so, so softly. He’s not sure if he would be able to hear Grantaire if he wasn’t millimeters away from Enjolras’s ear. “You could cum right now, in your jeans, in public. If you’re lucky maybe I’d catch some in my hand but if you weren’t lucky, you’d be walking back out there with a cum stain on your crotch. Is that what you want, love? Or are you just counting on us running off before it starts seeping through?”

Enjolras closes his eyes for a moment because if he keeps them open he’s going to cum right then and there, but it’s too hard to keep his eyes off Grantaire. He opens them again to drink in every inch of Grantaire he can see and tries to shift into Grantaire’s grip again. Grantaire is hot and solid, a wall of toned muscle and warm flesh and Enjolras can’t imagine not getting to touch him every day. He wants to touch him now, but he’s left his hands in his pockets because the look Grantaire had given him when he issued the order was so stern and resolute that Enjolras nearly moaned aloud at it. He tries to ask for permission—to touch, to cum, to speak, even—but he can’t get anything past Grantaire’s hand, which is probably for the best anyway. Enjolras is not certain he wouldn’t make a bigger ass of himself at the moment, or summon some good Samaritan to the bathroom. Grantaire pulls back to give him a roguish grin before attacking the other ear

God, he’s so head over heels for this man.

“Do you want to cum? Even though we’re in public? It’s okay if you don’t.” Grantaire presses soft kisses to his ear and neck and Enjolras moans, barely audible. “We can wait until later if you’d prefer. When we’re home. Alone. No one to walk in on you moaning wantonly like a little tart.”

With a shocked grunt, Enjolras cums, covering Grantaire’s hand and the inside of his underwear with cum. Grantaire chuckles in his ear, low and guttural.

“That’s what I thought you would do.” Grantaire’s hand squeezes him through the orgasm, then releases him from the wall, quickly wadding up some toilet paper to clean them up. Enjolras leans agains the wall, aware of how fucking loud his panting seems without Grantaire’s hand to offset it. “You okay?” Grantaire asks, closer to normal volume, as he wipes Enjolras down.

Enjolras nods, tiredly. He doesn’t feel the dip that sometimes comes after subbing, he just feels exhausted from the lost adrenaline. 

Grantaire kisses Enjolras’s temple. “I’ll make you some more coffee when we get home. Maybe a mocha if you ask nice.”

“Please?” Enjolras asks with a tired smile.

“Alright, if you insist.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys all asked for hard humiliation and that's gonna be the day 30 chapter so keep an eye out if u were one of the four (4) anons i got about that
> 
> there is still TECHNICALLY time to request something so speak rn or forever hold your piece (or like....request a non-kinktober fic and/or commish me)


	13. Day Twenty-Nine: (Fake) Glory Holes and Praise Kink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> third from the end we got this yo
> 
> this chapter contains: a faked glory hole scene involving a minor consensual mindfuck, blackout contacts/sensory deprivation, minor well hidden public bondage, fucking a sex toy, praise kink

The blackout contacts are new. Grantaire had seen them online and sent the link to Enjolras immediately with a set of angel emojis following. Enjolras had replied, “we’ll see,” and then the topic had been dropped until Enjolras had described the scene to him a few days prior. Grantaire had emphatically agreed, because what was the point of blackout contacts if you weren’t going to use them in places where a blindfold would be too obvious?

He gets dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, the kind with a big pocket in front, and Enjolras pushes him to his knees in front of the door. “Do you want to do the honors?” he asks, and Grantaire shakes his head. He has never put in contacts and doesn’t want to start now. Enjolras nods his agreement, and leans down. The first one goes in smoothly enough. It’s uncomfortable, a little foreign feeling, but nothing too bad. “Blink. Move your eye around.”

Grantaire does it, not sure how to tell when the contact is properly seated. It takes Grantaire a few moments to realize that it’s in, because even when he opens his eye, he can’t see anything. He knew it would be dark but he hadn’t thought about how dark until right now and goes dizzy with how fast his cock gets hard. “Pine,” he says immediately, before Enjolras can voice any concerns. “I…yes. This is yes, sir.”

Enjolras chuckles at him, and Grantaire blushes, embarrassed at his exuberance. “I mean, I assumed you would like them, but I’m wondering if I should feel jealous of how hard you got for these little pieces of plastic. You don’t get hard like that for me.”

Grantaire flushes even further. “It’s you putting them on me, sir. Like I can’t even be trusted to put in a contact myself.”

The look of realization on Enjolras’s face is damning. “Ah. Well, you can’t, can you, R?”

Grantaire shakes his head. “No, sir.”

“Exactly.” Enjolras leans down for a kiss, and then places the other contact. Grantaire blinks a few times rapidly, but he can’t see at all. Even their blindfolds let in a little light, but this is as dark as his eyes have ever been and he’s not sure how he’s going to walk out the door like this and not be arrested for indecent exposure due to the bulge in his pants. Enjolras seems to share that thought, as he tugs Grantaire’s hoodie down as far as it will go.

Grantaire hears him leave and hears him come back, but it’s so dark. He feels a hand on his arm and then he’s being pulled to his feet. It’s a little dizzying, and he almost loses his balance but Enjolras keeps him upright.

“Give me your wrists.” Grantaire does, and Enjolras wraps a soft leather cuff around each, guiding them into his hoodie pocket and snapping the two of them together. 

Grantaire makes a bitten off moan. He hadn’t expected that, hadn’t expected how hard it makes him. He’s bound and blinded and no one would be the wiser. Enjolras shoves Grantaire’s phone in his pocket and hands Grantaire the ear buds.

“It’s playing some ambient music, and also a phone call with me. I’m going to tell you what I think you need to know, and you’re going to be a good boy and do what I ask, aren’t you?”

Grantaire nods. “Yessir.” He puts the headphones in. The ambient music isn’t too loud but it does cover Enjolras’s voice almost completely. He swallows hard, feeling very isolated again, but then Enjolras’s voice cuts in above the music.

“Good boy. Don’t call me sir when we’re outside, okay?” Grantaire is sure his face is far more sarcastic than it should be, and Enjolras’s chuckle confirms it. “Don’t sass me, or maybe you won’t get your treat.”

Grantaire schools his face into something more neutral. Enjolras links their arms and he takes a step, and then another. He can feel rather than hear the door close behind them, and then Enjolras says, “Five steps down.”

Grantaire knows the number of steps to their apartment, but he feels so unmoored, like maybe he doesn’t exist in real space at all. He lets Enjolras guide him out the door and onto the street. He can feel it’s brighter outside, feel the sun on his face, but his eyesight remains determinedly dark. They start off down the street, Enjolras telling him when they’re turning, or when to step out of the way of a lamppost. Their arms are linked so Grantaire knows he couldn’t really get lost, but he can’t help feeling like he might.

“Enjolras, where are we going?” They’ve taken turns, a lot of them, and Grantaire suspects some of them were just to confuse his directional sense. Nothing feels or smells particularly familiar though, so it’s possible they’ve been heading in a direct path the whole time and the turns just feel off to him because he can’t see. He doesn’t know and the uncertainty is making him cling tighter to Enjolras.

“Do you know where we are right now?” Enjolras asks. 

It is obvious he does not. “No.”

“Did you stop to consider that maybe I didn’t want you to know?”

Grantaire nods, swallowing his comeback. It had occurred to him, he just doesn’t like it even though it makes his dick hard. Eventually they come to where they must be headed, and Enjolras holds a door open for him. As soon as Enjolras’s hands are off him, Grantaire feels at sea again, feels vertigo, feels so deeply alone that he’s not sure he’s ever felt this alone before.

“We’re there,” Enjolras says. “It’s fine, everyone’s expecting this. Get on your knees. I want you to crawl up the steps.”

Grantaire drops. It is hard to count steps crawling, but he tries his best. It’s hard because he’s not actually sure where his body is at any time, and for all he knows he might be double counting or only counting half. He thinks there might be seven, but he’s not really sure. He can feel the movement of air he’s associating with a door opening, so they’re definitely going in somewhere but Grantaire doesn’t know where they are, and he’s only a little apprehensive. 

He crawls in and then kneels up, unsure where Enjolras wants him, unsure if anyone one else can see him kneeling.

“Good boy,” Enjolras says softly and Grantaire shivers. “Can you stand up for me?”

Grantaire is pretty good at standing generally, but he takes it slowly because he’s not sure how balanced he’s feeling and he doesn’t want to embarrass Enjolras by flailing.

“So good for me, R. Do you know where we are?” Grantaire shakes his head. He was pretty sure they had established that. “I arranged a little treat for you. Since you’ve been so good for me, baby. We’re in a private establishment, and you’re gonna stick your dick in a wall and fuck some anonymous hole.”

Grantaire’s cock does a little jump. He has fantasized about this. He thinks glory holes are hot in theory and a little gross in practice, but he knows that Enjolras wouldn’t actually let him do anything dangerous, and probably not even with another person without checking with him extensively. Grantaire figures he can be pretty sure it’s a trick, but…

“Are you going to be jealous? If I stick my cock somewhere else?”

“I brought you here, didn’t I?” Enjolras laughs. “No, pet, it’s okay. I know you like me best.”

Grantaire nods. “I do.”

He can feel Enjolras smiling even if he can’t see him. “Then there’s no problem unless you have one.” Grantaire shakes his head, and Enjolras walks him over to where he assumes the wall is. 

“Fuck me.”

“Not in public.” Enjolras arranges him, kicking Grantaire’s legs apart and unbuttoning his fly. Grantaire’s cock is raring to go and Enjolras laughs at him as it bounces. Grantaire can’t help it, though, he’s never been tied up in public before and it's an overwhelming and vulnerable feeling and also maybe the hottest thing they’ve ever done.

Enjolras guides his cock through a hole, wide enough that Grantaire can feel the edges of it on his pelvis, and then into the waiting hole. It’s not that Grantaire doesn’t do the fucking, it’s just he usually prefers to bottom, and so it’s sort of a shock to realize he’s sinking into someone’s asshole just like that. It’s tight, and warm and he isn’t going to last that long. He bucks forward and almost topples over, trying to use his bound hands to catch himself—he can’t because of how they are tied—but then Enjolras grabs him, steadying him.

“Easy,” Enjolras says softly. “Lean into me. I’ll prop you up. You’re doing so good. I want to see you give it to him. Fuck him, R, hard as you can. You’ve been so good for so long, cum whenever you want, darling.”

Enjolras doesn’t usually write him blank checks like that, but he feels warm inside, pleased that he was that good, that he was so good that Enjolras wants to reward him, and begins to fuck in earnest. Enjolras holds him with an arm across his chest, bracing him as he sinks into the warm, wet hole. It tightens around him lightly and he groans.

“You’ll excuse him if he isn’t as tight as I was told. He’s a little fucked out, you see. See, he’s not been a good boy. Not like my boy. Needed to get fucked back into good behavior.” Enjolras kisses his temple and he preens. “God, I should watch you fuck more often. You’re so hot, Grantaire, so hot and you fuck so hard. I don’t understand how anyone can be as beautiful as you are, as strong.”

Grantaire groans, that warm feeling beginning to spread to his extremities. He hits against the edge of the hole a couple of times, and it feels so solid in front of him, he’s beginning to think it might actually be real. He squeezes his hands tightly in his pocket and throws his head back to rest it on Enjolras’s shoulder. “Not going to last.”

“That’s fine. Cum when you want to. Good boy.”

Grantaire sort of doesn’t want this to end, but he does need to cum. The hole pulses weakly around him once more, and he gives in. He cums silently, back arching as he tries to savor the warmth around his cock as long as possible.

Grantaire stands with his pulse racing for a moment, basking in the feeling, before gravity and adrenaline meet back up with him. “Can I sit down?” Enjolras doesn’t reply but leads him away from the hole, braces him and begins easing him to the floor.

Enjolras scooches up behind him and holds him tightly. “That was so hot, Grantaire. 10/10, would recommend. You were amazing.”

Grantaire hums happily. “Are we done? Because if we are done I might want to like, cuddle with you in peace.”

“Hands?” Enjolras asks.

Grantaire shakes his head. “Contacts first?” It’s a little uncomfortable, but once Grantaire has blinked the splotches out of his eyes he’s a little surprised to find them back in their apartment. Enjolras unhooks his hands, and then massages them even though Grantaire’s fingers feel fine. “How?” He looks around, but Enjolras had moved them just out of sight of his set up.

Enjolras blushes. “Uh, a braced piece of a wood with a hole cut in and a metal plate put on it? And a warmed up fleshlight with a weak pneumatic thing to make it go-” he demonstrates a squeezing motions with his hand.

Grantaire cracks a smile, collapsing back into him. “You’re such a nerd.” He snuggles up and Enjolras chuckles. “Love you.”

“Love you, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so close yall omg


	14. Day Thirty: Humiliation and Forced Orgasms and Sex Toys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOO!! this one feels a little rougher to me but also i am exhausted so lets just roll with it
> 
> as requested this chapter has: humiliation, being forced to apologize for like nothing, name calling/being talked down to (grantaire is called stupid, but it's okayed mid scene), so much face slapping my god, forced orgasms, crying, post orgasm torture, bondage/stress bondage, vibrators, one instance of face spitting, and then a little bit of dropping and aftercare
> 
> about to post the last one

Sex Toys and Humilation and Forced Orgasms

Grantaire knows he is fucked as soon as Enjolras brings out the ropes. A lot, a lot of ropes. Ropes usually bode well for him, in a long, painful, drawn out kind of way, and he likes long, painful and drawn out, but he gets a knot of sexy apprehension when he asks if he should take off his clothes and Enjolras says, “no.”

He’s on his knees, fully clothed, and tied and hand and foot, vibrators stuffed in his ass and nestled under his balls. His feet are tied crossed at the ankle and ankles to thighs—which is an immediate strain on his legs—one wrist bent to the front of his neck and the other bent up behind his head, lashed to each other and his neck. Then Enjolras had covered him ropes, vaguely shibari diamond shapes, up and down his torso and arms until he was bundled up and held close. His arms are getting tired but any strong motion bites into his neck, so he keeps as still as he can.

It started strenuous, and then Enjolras had turned on the vibrators.  
Grantaire shakes, grinding down onto the vibrators as best he can in the position he’s in, but it doesn’t matter that much anyway, because he realizes quickly that the position of the vibrators is enough to bring him hurtling towards an orgasm almost immediately. 

“Oh, shit, sir,” Grantaire says hoarsely, gyrating into or away from the vibrations, he’s not quite sure. “Can I cum? Because I think fucking might.”

“No.” He’s not expecting the backhand he receives across the face, and he pants, wide mouthed, through the pain of it. “Good boys don’t swear, and I don’t believe I asked you to think.”

“I’m sorry?” Grantaire hazards, a little breathlessly, and Enjolras smacks him across the face again.

Enjolras raises an eyebrow at him, face hard and mouth a tight, disappointed line. “Is that a question? Have I been overestimating your ability to do something as simple as an apology? I didn’t want to be cruel to you, but you’re not giving me many options.”

Grantaire swallows past the lump in his throat, past the feeling of the ropes around his neck. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Enjolras slaps him again, and it brings tears to Grantaire’s eyes. “Again.”

“I’m sorry!” Grantaire pants, blinking away the tears, on the very edge of what promises to be a very satisfying orgasm with a very painful come down.

“You almost sound it. One more time.”

“I’m sorry,” Grantaire says as steadily as he can, and Enjolras slaps him again, face whipping to the side. “Fuck!” he cries, tears beginning to fall, face burning in hot, bright pain from the blows. He shakes, the vibrator pressing more tightly to his balls, and he almost cums.

Enjolras head tilts in mock confusion, a cold rage building on his face. “What did I say?”

Grantaire is addled, lost and confused in a sea of humiliation and pain and pleasure so intense its edging into pain. What did Enjolras say? What is he supposed to repeat? “I don’t know!”

Enjolras scoffs. “I don’t know what I expected from dumb slut like you.” It’s close enough to something that actually hurts Grantaire that he winces, sobering slightly, and curls in on himself as much as he can bound. He opens his mouth to tell Enjolras as much (not safeword, not yet), but Enjolras interrupts him. “It’s not your fault,” he says in a sort of sing-songy way. “You’re cock dumb. The second you see cock, think about cock—” he circles Grantaire tightly, then pushes the vibrator harder against Grantaire’s cock and balls with his foot, “—the second someone touches your cock, it’s like a switch is flipped and your head is empty, isn’t that right?” He waits for Grantaire to answer for a moment before adding, in the same cloying tone, “Color?”

It does make it feel better, but he’s back to feeling flustered and turned on in an embarrassed way. “I—uh—fern?”

“Are you not sure? Are you so cock dumb that you can’t answer a simple question?”

Grantaire nods frantically and gets another slap for his trouble. “Yes. Yes, I am, sir.”

Enjolras rolls his eyes. “Yes you are, what, slut?”

Grantaire squeezes his eyes shut and whispers. “Yes I am that cock dumb, sir.”

Enjolras nods sagely. “I figured. I don’t know why I waste my time on a dumb cunt like you.”

That’s a new one. Grantaire doesn’t have time to fully examine how he feels about it, because his dick seems into it and suddenly he’s cumming hard, tugging against his bondage and physically shaking with the strength of it. The vibrations continue on after he’s done and it’s only when he’s coming up again, in part due to the very-not-great feel of the puddle of cum in his underwear, when he realizes that Enjolras isn’t going to turn the vibrators off.

“Sir, please, can you turn the vibrator down? I can’t—I can’t—”

Enjolras shushes him, rubbing his one of his reddened cheeks with his palm, which is surprisingly comforting. “I didn’t ask you what you can or can’t do. And I believe I didn’t tell you that you could cum, either. So, since you’re not up to following basic instructions today, since you’re apparently too dumb for that right now, I’ll just keeping giving you what you want until you learn.”

Grantaire is pretty sure he’s already learned. His arms are beginning to get fatigued, legs way past that point. The position he’s in gives him almost no room to wiggle away from the vibrations, and as he comes down from the orgasm, the intense vibrations on his oversensitive cock and prostate are enough make him want to scream. It hurts—it hurts a lot—but Grantaire can take it for now. “Sir, please, I—”

Enjolras slaps him, and then again on the other cheek. “You’ve proved yourself unable to keep from cumming, but do you think you could keep your mouth closed, or is that too much for a slut like you?”

“No sir,” Grantaire mutters, rocking as he tries to find a position that doesn’t hurt. The bondage had started as restrictive and it’s only gotten worse since then, tight and oppressive and absolutely amazing and he’s going to lose his mind.

Enjolras glares at him. “Does ‘no sir’ sound like silence to you, cunt? I knew you weren’t capable of complex thought once your cock gets involved, but really, I’ve had smarter conversations with dogs.”

Grantaire is so hazy he barely can comprehend what Enjolras is saying to him. He’s enough of a pain slut that the intense overstimulation is beginning to fade into regular stimulation and his cock is beginning to harden again even though it never softened all the way anyway. He groans and Enjolras slaps him again. He looks at Enjolras, dazed, and asks, “I’m sorry sir, could you repeat the question?”

Grantaire isn’t sure what he expected, but it was not for Enjolras to leave backwards and then spit in his face. It lands on Grantaire’s cheek and it’s—it’s terrible, but it’s hot and he’s not sure which will win out? It sits, wet on his face and he can’t wipe it away and it makes him feel like the dirt beneath Enjolras’s boots but that’s okay because Enjolras at least has chosen him to squash into the ground. It’s some combo of this and the never ending stimulation that sends him tailspinning into his second orgasm.

There is no comedown from this one. The pain is immediate and builds in nauseous waves and he curls in and then rears up, but he can’t escape the bondage or the feeling that he is failing Enjolras, even if he was set up to fail. He’s crying for real, wet cheeks and hiccuping sobs, which Enjolras interrupts by slapping his face around a few more times.

“If you can stop blubbering for one minute and sit and take your punishment, I’ll let you go. How about that, hmm? Another chance to prove you have the wits you were born with.”

Grantaire tries. He does. He holds his breath to try and keep the tears in but the vibration feels like a battering ram against his nerves and he’s certain the only thing keeping him from falling to pieces is the bondage, but maybe falling to pieces would be preferable to this long, slow collapse.

He makes it twenty seconds before the bludgeoning against his prostate is too much and he cums again, screaming as he dribbles into the wet spot in his underwear. The buzzing continues, agony, and and he squeals, sweaty and wet and uncomfortable.

Enjolras turns the vibrations off at long last and Grantaire all but collapses. He’s bound too tight to fall over but he feels like he might, sea sick—or maybe he’s water, sloshing over the side of the boat. His metaphors are mixed but to be fair, he feels like his insides might be all mixed up, too. He tries to sniffle up the rest of his tears, but they keep falling.  
Enjolras sighs, squatting down to Grantaire’s level. “I’m disappointed. I don’t know why. Of course you wouldn’t obey me over the needs of your tiny, hungry cock. I’m not sure what I was expecting.”

“I’m sorry,” Grantaire says, voice cracking. “I tried.”

Enjolras shakes his head. “Not enough, slut. Ask me how you can make it up to me.”

“How can I make it up to you?” Grantaire is shaking. He’s not sure he wants to know, but he doesn’t have a choice without calling the scene early and as strenuous as this is, both physically and mentally, he doesn’t want it to end.

“Ask me to make you cum again.”

Grantaire is shaking his head before Enjolras is even finished. It’s unthinkable, he wouldn’t survive it. His balls would shrivel up and fall off and he’d die of pain. He can’t stop shaking his head once he’s started, locked in a loop of horror.

Enjolras slaps him out of it. Grantaire wonders if he’s going to have bruises on his cheeks, and if that would make Enjolras feel guilty or proud. “Or. Or, you can apologize to me for being a dumb, cock stupid, fuck up, disappointment who can’t even follow basic orders.”

The bottom falls out of Grantaire’s stomach which is strange because he was pretty sure that had already happened. That’s worse, so much worse, than the physical strain of forcing another orgasm out of his taxed body, isn’t it? He doesn’t want to be a disappointment to Enjolras, and that’s what he’s being, isn’t he? If he’s not going to safeword out, then he should take it with a smile.

“Please, sir, make me cum again? I want to cum again for you, and show you how good I can be at following directions.”

Enjolras doesn’t respond, but the vibrations start up again all at once and Grantaire regrets his decision immediately. He’s too tender, too sore, and it hurts like a punch to the gut. He strains, and fights, but he can’t get away from it—couldn’t even if he wanted to, and he had asked for this, hadn’t he? He’s crying and sweating and possibly screaming, and he’s sure he’s never going to be able to cum again. It hurts too much. It’s impossible.

Enjolras cups Grantaire’s chin, and he flinches, expecting a blow. Enjolras smiles instead and says, “Good slut, I’m proud of you,” and Grantaire, miraculously, cums.

He thinks he might have lost time after that, bc the next time he’s aware, he’s laid out on the bed with a cool washcloth on his face and Enjolras spooned up beside him but not touching.

“Welcome back,” Enjolras says softly.

“How long?” Grantaire is not that surprised at how hoarse his voice is, but he still winces at the sound.

“About ten minutes. How are you doing?”

Grantaire takes a quick mental survey. His cock and balls and ass are still vibrating with pain and his muscles are sore overworked feeling. His face feels bad, too, but not bruised, which is good. He’s tired, and little shaky, but not too bad considering. “Can I have a cheese stick? And a water?” he says in lieu of answer.

Enjolras pulls two cheese sticks and a bottle of water from behind him. “I also have chips and gatorade if you need something salty.”

Grantaire nods and takes them, eating slowly, and tries to pour the water into his mouth without sitting up. He doesn’t really manage, but the washcloth absorbs it and it feels cool on his face, so it’s fine.

“Can I touch you?” 

Grantaire considers that for a moment. He turns on his side so they’re face to face. The washcloth falls off, but that’s okay. He wants Enjolras to touch him, but…. “You don’t actually think any of that, do you? That I’m—” he trails off. “I don’t know.” Without the adrenaline, the pain—the scene actively happening to him—he feels a little empty inside.

“I love you,” Enjolras says, gently, tenderly. “I think you’re smart and talented, and I love that sometimes you want to be hurt, to be called mean names, to be demeaned, because it’s hot to play pretend, it’s hot make you feel all the ways you want to feel. But I love you, and it’s only a game.”

The emptiness recedes a little and Grantaire nods, tears forming in his eyes again. “Please can I have a cuddle.”

Enjolras rushes forward, enveloping Grantaire in his arms, and then Grantaire is crying, sobbing into Enjolras’s neck and Enjolras holds him tightly, kissing Grantaire’s hair and telling him how good he’s been. It’s embarrassing, but it’s not the hot kind of embarrassing like in a scene, the kind where he wants to hide his face in shame, because he consented to this and why is it fucking him up so much?

“I’m sorry,” he says, and it’s muffled by Enjolras’s chest.

“I don’t need you to be sorry. I love you, and I’ll love you even if you need to cry.”

Grantaire doesn’t want to cry, is the thing, but as he cries, the feeling is gradually becoming less overwhelming. He doesn’t feel despairing anymore, he just feels tired, drained. Enjolras keeps holding him until the tears dry up, and then continues until Grantaire starts laughing.

Grantaire rolls on his back and Enjolras lets him go. “Fuck!” He looks at Enjolras, still laughing. “Is my face going to bruise?”

Enjolras shakes his head. “Don’t think so. We can ice it later, just in case.”

Grantaire nods. He feels better but he still wants to feel close, wants to know how much Enjolras wants him. “Can I have additional cuddles?”

Enjolras laughs, and rolls into Grantaire, covering as much of Grantaire’s body as he can with his own. It feels good to be covered, to be held and Grantaire relaxes by degrees. “Was that good for you?”

Enjolras nod cautiously. “It was. But if it wasn’t good for you, we don’t have to do anything like that again.”

“No, I want to,” Grantaire insists, and kisses Enjolras deeply. “I just maybe need you to tell me a few more times how great I am.”

“You’re talented,” Enjolras says, and kisses him. “Smart.” A kiss. “Strong.” Kiss. “Handsome.” Kiss. “Fearfully intelligent.” Another kiss. “A wonderful speaker.” A longer kiss. “My amazing partner without whom I would be lost.”

Grantaire is laughing by the end, but there are tears again. “Okay, calm it down, Romeo. I take it back.”

“I love you,” Enjolras says, earnestly.

Grantaire nods. “I know.”

He absolutely deserves the flick to his side he gets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOOD NIGHT


	15. Day Thirty-One: Head Shaving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day 31 was MY CHOICE BABY so lets have some niche kink
> 
> this chapter contains: head shaving, staying in place, tape gags/blindfolds (with skin/hair safe tape), SCHMOOP

The microfoam tape goes cleanly over Grantaire’s eyelids sticking them down. They’ve done this enough times that Grantaire knows his eyelashes and eyebrows are in no danger, but it still makes him nervous anyway. This scene is Grantaire’s idea, and while he finds it extremely hot, it’s still a little outside of their normal activities and Grantaire is feeling it. 

“All good?” Enjolras asks, pressing down lightly to make sure the tape is secure. It’s strong enough that Grantaire can’t dislodge it by blinking, but he tries anyway. It doesn’t work.

Grantaire smiles in his general direction and gives him a thumbs up. “If by good you mean, ‘can you see?’ then no, sir, I cannot. If you mean ‘are you finding the tape covering your eyes hot’ then yes, sir, I do. If—”

“Shut up or I’ll gag you.”

Grantaire smirks flirtily. “Promise?”

Enjolras pauses, and Grantaire can hear his hesitation. “Do you want a gag, Grantaire? Because if you do, you could have, you know, asked.”

Grantaire says in his sweetest tone of voice, “Please, sir, may I have a gag?” because how could Enjolras refuse?

Enjolras chuckles. “Gimme a second.” He leaves Grantaire kneeling in their bathroom. “I’m a little worried I won’t be able to hear you humming or snapping with all the ambient noise. So I’m going to hand you a ball with a bell inside and you’re gonna drop it if you’re uncomfortable, yes?”

Grantaire nods at him. He assumed they’d have to depend on something like that, and he’s glad Enjolras has worked out a system. “Sounds good. Do I get a gag?”

“Yes, but here,” Enjolras says and hands him the ball. “Hold onto this, and open your mouth, R.” Grantaire does and Enjolras shoves a ball behind Grantaire’s teeth, pressing a kiss to his parted lips, before slapping another piece of microfoam tape over his lips and pressing down on it hard. Grantaire groans happily and leans into Enjolras’s touch. It’s a big ball and it fills his mouth completely. With it stuck behind his teeth, he knows he won’t be able to push it out, and he groans again. “Content?”

Grantaire nods enthusiastically. Enjolras gives him a double tap on the shoulder, and Grantaire taps against his thigh twice in return. It’s a little strange to be without a sense but not bound, but he likes the way that feels, too, like Enjolras thinks he’s a good enough boy to stay where he is put.

Enjolras grabs a handful of his hair, tugging hard. “You sure you want this?” he asks and Grantaire nods again, trying to force “yes,” past the ballgag. “I’m going to miss it, honestly, but I’m glad you trust me to do something like this, R. Stay still.”

Grantaire can hear a tremendous whirring and then the pressure fades and Grantaire’s cock twitches. Enjolras grabs another handful, shearing it away, and then another. Grantaire keeps a tight grip on the ball, doesn’t want Enjolras to stop.

He sits still, unable to watch Enjolras or question him, but that’s fine. He trusts Enjolras. His arms and legs are free, though. He could stop Enjolras, or leave, but he won’t.

Grantaire hadn’t known exactly what it would feel like when he had asked Enjolras to shave his head, but he is yet to regret it. It goes by faster than he thought it would—the tight sting of each place Enjolras pulls, and then the release. The whirring is overpoweringly loud, and the tugging of his hair and the loud vibrations make Grantaire harder than he thinks he should be for a haircut, even an s&m themed one.

He can tell when Enjolras finishes, because he can hear his clippers crashing onto the bathroom sink, and then Enjolras’s hands are scraping across his scalp with his nails and Grantaire is painfully hard in seconds.

“I have to admit,” Enjolras says after a long moment. “It’s hot that you let me do that. You look so good. I knew you would, but damn, Grantaire, you’ve been holding out on me. And although I love pulling your hair, this,” he says, scraping his nails across Grantaire’s head, “is a pretty good substitute.”

Grantaire groans, trying his hardest to stay still like he was asked. He wants to wiggle, wants to touch his cock, or his head or Enjolras, but moreso he wants to be good—so he stays still.

“So good,” Enjolras says rapturously, kissing across Grantaire’s face and Grantaire whines, muffled by the gag. “I want this off.” He pulls the tape from Grantaire’s mouth and it comes off smoothly, painlessly, and then Enjolras’s fingers are in Grantaire’s mouth, pulling the ball free.

Grantaire pants open mouthed. “Please, sir,” he whimpers.

“What do you want, love?” Enjolras asks between kissing Grantaire breathlessly, and scraping his nails across any place that might make Grantaire twitch and break position.

What does Grantaire want? To see how his hair looks, to cum, to make Enjolras cum, to stay still where Enjolras told him to. “You,” he settles on eventually.

Enjolras laughs, swooping in for another kiss. “You’re in luck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank y'all for being wonderful this year and stick around for my less porny adventures!!

**Author's Note:**

> hello i am gabe racetrackthehiggins and i approve this message. come hang/prompt me! im back in les mis its awful i need friends


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